Akkarin and His Years in Sachaka
by Kasloumor
Summary: This is what I craved after finishing the High Lord: Akkarin's full story. I try to be as true to the original plot as possible. Don't own a thing, of course and I am a foreigner so I hope that there are not too many errors. Enjoy and PLEASE review.....
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One – Captured**

Akkarin escaped not long after midnight.

It had been surprisingly easy though he had not been able to bring any food with him. The reason simply being that there was nothing to take as the slaves were given very little to eat. Mostly their food consisted of a tasteless porridge made up from coarse flour and water. Occasionally some bread and a little shem were added. But right now hunger – and thirst – did not matter. All that was on his mind was getting away from his Sachakan captor. For ten days he had been held captive at the magician's camp and clearly he was considered nothing but a slave among slaves. He couldn't fathom what he had been through. Being stripped of his robes and given only rags to wear in stead. Ordered to empty night pots or wash clothes, or go searching for food for the "Master".

But the nightmare was over now and he was finally on his way back to the Guild. He looked at the rags he was wearing and shook his head in disbelief. His feet did not look too good either. His boots had been taken from him as well and he was not a man being used to walk around barefooted. Blisters and cuts made his escape harder but he did not care. Not yet.

The night air was cold. In Sachaka there was none to little vegetation to hold on to heat of any kind during the nights and he was grateful that the wind had quieted down. The further away he walked, the calmer he felt. As the sun began to rise in the horizon he felt safe but with this sensation also came awareness of pain from his aching feet as well as hunger and thirst but he did his best to ignore these signs of weakness. His main concern and priority was to get out of the wasteland as quickly as possible.

He considered sending out a mental call for help but decided it was too dangerous as the Sachakan magician or some of his friends might pay attention to it and find him. And he was not certain he had gained enough magical power to be able to send a message either way. Occasionally he looked back but saw no pursuers and was relieved every time. When the sun set, he finally allowed himself to rest. He rested sitting up against a boulder and fell asleep almost immediately out of sheer exhaustion.

"Yip-yip" the sound of a yeel not far away woke him up shortly after. At once, he became fully alert and glanced in all directions. It was difficult to see anything in the darkness and the area he was in consisted of large rock formations and boulders lying around as if having been thrown there by a giant. The yeel barked again – this time closer by. Dakova, the Sachakan magician had had a one of those little animals and dread started to fill his heart. He hid behind the boulder, panic searing through his body hoping that he would not be found. He knew he would not be able to win if it came to an open fight. He was far too weak. Nevertheless, as he was crouching, he went through every possible defence manoeuvres he knew of but in his heart he was acutely aware of the fact that none of his warrior skills were worth anything without magic. All he could hope for was not being discovered.

The attack came without notice from behind and he was flung up in the air and slammed down on the ground. Magic pinned him hard to the ground. Helplessly he watched the magician approach him as a dark shadow. The man pulled out his terrible knife. "So _slave_, you think you could get away from me"? What little was left of his newly gained power was taken away from him with a swift cut of the knife as the magician drained him of so much power that he nearly lost conscience.

Get up, _slave_", the magician sneered. Akkarin managed to stumble to his feet and could do nothing as the Sachakan tied his hands together behind his back. Dakova hummed and seemed to be rather pleased about him self. For the first time since his capture, Akkarin felt truly desperate. He had failed. Was there no way out of this? With a shove to his back, he started forward– and continued walking all night closely followed by his silent captor.

Returning to the camp went much faster than getting away from it as they walked in the open landscape. He was devastated at his failure but kept thinking "he will not break me - he cannot and shall not break me".

Early morning they were back. A couple of slaves who saw them approaching regarded them quietly – he tried not to look at them, suddenly realising what an utter fool he had been.

Dakova called out for all of his slaves to gather around him and pulled Akkarin's still tied hands up causing him to stumble forward in a painful humiliating posture.

"Listen to me slaves – No one can escape me", Dakova proclaimed. "I am your Master and you shall watch this disobedient slave receive his punishment so that you will understand that there will be no other future for you but me".

Akkarin felt his mouth go dry. His lips were chipped and he needed something to drink desperately. But in stead he found himself being taken to a pole where his hands were cut loose only to be tied firmly once more this time above his head. He was standing with his face towards the crowd who eyed him nervously. Dakova approached him smiling. It was a knowing smile of triumph but Akkarin returned his smile with an unwavering defiant stare.

Then a violent beating began. Some of the slaves had to look away but Akkarin did not notice. Dakova didn't use magic. He simply used his fists to hit Akkarin hard in his ribs and face and stomach. Akkarin could not help but groaning when ever he received a blow to his stomach but managed not to utter a real cry, all the time focusing his thoughts on only this; "He shall not break me – not me. I am a Guild magician. I am Lord Akkarin of house Velan". When the beating finally ended Akkarin let out a shuddering sigh of pain and relief. His entire inner body felt crushed and he could feel and taste the blood running down his face.

Dakova had some of the slaves fetch food and wine and sat down in front of Akkarin not really paying attention to him, enjoying the meal as if this was just an ordinary break in a normal day's routine.

Then he abruptly got up and went back to Akkarin and slapped him hard in the face. For some reason this felt more humiliating than the beating. Akkarin clenched his jaws and lifted his face to stare back at the brute. Once again he received a hard slap in his face. This went on several times when Dakova suddenly strode away leaving Akkarin hanging by the pole for what seemed an eternity. The slaves stood about in a half circle. No one made a sound or dared make a move. The sun baked down and a mix of sweat and blood poured into his eyes and made it hard for him to see clearly. So he closed his eyes and waited.

The silent wait was terrifying and his heart started beating awkwardly as he slowly began to feel fear. He was exhausted beyond beliefs and his mind seemed to stay off focus.

When Dakova returned an hour later, it was with a thin stick in his hand. He stood in front of Akkarin once again smiling scornfully at him. Akkarin tried to return his stare but it was difficult to appear defiant and in control with his body throbbing from pain and his cheeks burning from the slapping. Hunger, thirst and pure exhaustion had done their work and by now he could not help but fearing the next step of the insane man and he was afraid it showed.

Dakova had two slaves cut Akkarin down and told them to tie his arms to a low boulder leaving Akkarin on his knees with his hands on top of the boulder. When the thin stick came slamming down on his hands it hurt like nothing he had ever felt before and as the hitting continued and blood starting showing on his molested hands and lower arms, tears welled up in his eyes. He didn't even realise he was screaming out in pain before it was much too late to stop it. Then he finally lost conscience.

A bucket of water was emptied out on him and Dakova pulled his head up by grapping his hair "So who is your Master now, _slave_? He didn't recognize his own trembling faint voice when he heard his reply "You are, Master".

He was untied and dragged to the big tent he had been told to sleep in with the other slaves. There he passed out.

At night someone turned him gently over. It was a woman. She placed his head in her lap and gave him a little to drink. "Don't drink it too fast" she whispered. Then she gave him a little porridge and began to wash him gently. The bruises on his face were not as bad as they looked she told him. His lips would probably heal up alright. He had not lost any teeth nor broken his nose. When it came to one of his eye brows however, she needed to sew it. She picked up a needle already prepared for the job and told him to lie still. It hurt but she was skilled and the whole thing was quickly over.

She took his molested hands in hers and rinsed them carefully. Then she gently rubbed them with a foul smelling ointment that stung. A low moan escaped his mouth and she instantly placed a finger on his lips telling him to be quiet.

"You will only make him want to start all over with you again – let him forget you for at least a couple of days so that you may heal", she whispered. Then she wound strings of cloth around his hands. She examined his ribs and told him, he had been lucky "You haven't broken more than two of your rib bones – they will heal eventually". She made him sit up partially and carefully wrapped a long piece of cloth tightly around his waist "This will support you – try to avoid lifting anything heavy" she continued. "But you must find something to do so as our Master will not be dissatisfied with you. Go to Takan who cooks for our master. He can make you do tasks that will not require too much of your strength. I will have a word with him tomorrow.

"_Our _Master_…" _He felt the need to cry and silently she stroked his hair and gently rocked him back and forth whispering comforting words into his ear. The burning in his eyes stopped but inside he kept crying and his heart and throat were aching. After a little while he turned his head to watch her in silence. Her skin was golden brown, her hair long and dark. Her eyes were big and slightly slanted. She was beautiful.

She looked down at him and smiled. "You will be alright – our Master will be pleased with you again – don't you worry about that", she whispered. Her words made him feel like crying again because he knew he had to worry about just that. He was a slave now. But instead of crying, he closed his eyes and finally allowed himself to fall asleep in her arms.

The next day he was left alone in the tent. The woman came by once with more water and food. Though she clearly could not heal, whatever she had done to his hands was working. They did not hurt nearly as much as they should have. In the late evening she came by again and repeated the treatment and then left giving him a small smile on the way out. He nodded to her in gratitude and gave her a little smile back.

Late that night, Dakova suddenly shouted at him: "Get out of the tent, guild slave_"_. He rose with difficulty and went outside. Dakova stood with his knife and Akkarin kneeled to his Master, bended his head as he has seen the other slaves do and handed out his arm. The cut and the drain were quickly over. Then Dakova placed his hands on Akkarin's head and once again Akkarin was truth read. Finally Dakova grunted something and left.

He thought about the woman. He had not seen her in the slaves' quarters before. When he asked one of the other slaves about her, the only reply he got was a sneer of disgust. The cook Takan did not say much either. He just nodded at his arrival and told him to help him prepare the vegetables and other similar tasks. So he kept quiet and saw no signs of her.

After a week he was able to work almost normally. His job was to maintain the fire, make sure there was enough firewood and generally help out at the stove together with Takan. Takan was the only one of the slaves who did not look at him with dislike and silently, they worked side by side. Akkarin sensed that Takan seemingly was an intelligent albeit silent man. The slave had an apparent passion for food that made him perform his best every day and Akkarin could only admire him for his culinary skills and efforts.

A few days later, he saw the woman close by the Master's quarter and went over to her. "Hello… I, we haven't been properly introduced" The words seemed too formal considering the surroundings but he continued "My name is Akkarin. I want to thank you for helping me". He held up his hands "Your treatment has been miraculous" and it was true. His long strong fingers showed no signs of the torture. The memory of the punishment came back and he looked away for a moment and then glanced back at her and murmured "Thank you – I am forever grateful". She looked around nervously. "I'm Yilana" she said. "And you are welcome". She paused… "Is it true that you come from the Guild?" He frowned and nodded. Apart from Takan who merely tolerated his presence, she had been the only one who had treated him kindly. The other slaves did not trust him, probably because he was a magician. Akkarin felt more alone than ever and took in a deep breath; "Would it be possible for you to come by later tonight and talk – I would consider it an honour to become acquainted with you." he added politely. She looked at him with surprise and disbelief showing all over her face. Then she nodded her head and smiled "I will see if I can come by tonight – I do not wish to upset our Master".

They began to meet as often as possible and she taught him about Sachaka and the Sachakan ways.

Dakova was an Ichani, an outcast who wasn't favoured by the King. The Sachakan King was a strong magician and he along with all other magicians in Sachaka practised black or Greater magic, as she called it. This news shocked and frightened Akkarin.

He was dismayed as he gradually began to understand how much resentment and even hatred the Sachakans felt towards the Guild due to the war that had taken place centuries ago. But he learned from Yilana that Sachaka had been a prosperous, wealthy and educated society which had been completely destroyed by the Guild magicians who had literally blown the country to pieces, thus creating the wasteland that now covered most of Sachaka. Yes, Sachaka very much still suffered from the ramifications of the war.

The more he got to know her, the more he grew fond of her. She was intelligent and kind and more beautiful than words could ever explain. He had noticed that she too was treated as an outcast by the other slaves. She was the Master's personal servant and lived in his quarters so Akkarin assumed that the other slaves were jealous of her status.

As the weeks passed by he had slowly but surely fallen in love with Yilana. Whenever he looked at her, he felt his heart racing and he had to smile to himself. Perhaps it was ridiculous but it was life preserving to be able to feel love even in a place and situation like this.

That night, they met as usual at the edge of the camp. They sat down quietly next to each other watching the sun set. He felt a little nervous and took a deep breath before taking her hand in his. Startled, she looked up. He gave her a crooked smile. "Yilana" he hesitated but continued "Your friendship is very important to me". He felt his face warm. "In fact, as each day passes, all I can think about and dream of is you. You mean more to me than you can possibly imagine" He took in yet another deep breath and said what had to be said "I have fallen in love with you".

She sat completely still looking down. Slowly he reached out and with his hand he turned her face towards his so that he could look her into her eyes. He saw tears on her face and something more in her gaze. He kept looking at her eyes and what he saw in them filled him with joy. He could sense from her that she felt the same way about him. His hands slid behind the back of her neck and drawing her closer he lowered his face and kissed her. It was a long and soft kiss. He closed his eyes and gently let his face touch hers. Then he leaned backwards and pulled her down besides him. Side by side they lay watching the sky.

He drew her close again and kissed her on her beautiful forehead, on her eyelids, and on her soft, soft cheeks. She tugged in a hand below his shirt and let it rest on his chest. He could feel his heart beating rapidly against the weight of her hand. His breath became strained as if he was being drowned but he felt wonderful. For a long time they were lying like that just holding on to one another.

"Akkarin" she whispered, her face buried in his neck. "I know I shouldn't but I do love you… But Dakova will never allow us to be together" "Why not", he asked, "I have noticed other couples here. Surely the Master does not care as long as work is being done"?

"Oh, Akkarin you still don't know, do you? I _belong_ to Dakova. He will not allow me go to any other man but him".

Akkarin hesitated. What was she saying? Then as her words sank in, he tensed all over and felt as if the sky came crashing down on him. She was Dakova's bed slave. How could he not have seen? He could feel that she was weeping against his chest and pushed himself away from her in order to kiss her tears away.

"It's not your fault Yilana, please. I am so sorry. I promise you it does not change how I feel for you and it never will".

She sobbed quietly. "Akkarin, when he discovers this and he will, we'll both risk getting killed. I have feared every truth read he has performed on me since I started having these feeling but so far he just has not thought about searching my mind for something like this. But he will learn the truth sooner or later – it isn't possible to keep secrets from a Master".

"Until then we will continue to meet, promise me this", he whispered between his teeth. His jaw clenched out of anger. He hated Dakova with so much resentment he felt that he was going to die. That man, that bastard, used the woman he loved as a love toy, a puppet and the thought of it was tearing him apart.

When they parted that night it was with a great sorrow and fear for the future but also with the warm feeling of mutual love for one another.

Only two weeks later, during a truth read, Akkarin watched in horror as his love for Yilana was revealed. Dakova then punched him hard in the face. "I know now, guild _slave_ and if you so much as touch her again, I will kill her in an instant". Akkarin tasted blood on his lips and looked up and saw Yilana standing outside Dakova's tent. Clearly, she had been beaten as well and worse than him. The following night, all of the slaves could hear how she was being abused and Akkarin lay in his bed aching all over his body from hate and outrage and sorrow. Never again would they be able to kiss or touch each other and he knew that Dakova would torment them and especially _her_ now that he had discovered their love for one another.

When Dakova performed yet a truth read the next day, Akkarin knew with certainty that Dakova would continue doing so for every single day for the rest of his miserable life. And every single day, he would enjoy learning how much hurt he cost him by hurting Yilana in any way he wanted. Akkarin thought he would not be able to survive it but when he next saw her again, he knew he had to keep on going. As long as she was there, there was hope and if she felt the same way about him he could not give up and he had to stay alive at all costs.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two – A Visitor**

Life had been brought down to only this; getting up in the morning, occasionally shaving and washing, eating some porridge outside the tent, working hard all day long, eating again, presenting himself to the master to be cut, drained and truth read. Afterwards in the evening, finally resting outside the slaves' tent staring at the master's quarter, always and forever hoping that she would appear just so that he could see her and perhaps send her a smile.

Of course that meant risking the anger of Dakova, but Akkarin had realised being the strongest magical source among the slaves, he was too valuable an asset for the master to want to kill him.

Besides Akkarin no longer cared if he was beaten or punished or humiliated in any other way. When it came down to his own person, he had absolutely nothing to loose any more. Dakova sensed this and therefore pretty much left him to himself. At this Akkarin could only smile wryly. But it was a lifeless smile.

Yilana was the only one who could bring back a spark of life into his eyes and this was evident from every truth read Dakova carried out and therefore the master continued using her as a tool. He kept treating her cruelly whenever there was a chance that Akkarin might hear it or see it and had forbidden her to leave his tent without escort or permission so it was rare that Akkarin caught a glimpse of her but those seldom moments were worth waiting for.

Another reason why Akkarin knew Dakova was not likely to hurt him directly was the fact that he was an attraction to be presented and ridiculed whenever another Ichani came by.

He remembered the first time that had happened. The other Ichani had appeared in the horizon late one afternoon together with what could only be described as a herd of slaves. Takan had told him that the slave herd were 'fresh slaves' meaning that they were frightened farmers who had the misfortune of having magical potential and therefore had been randomly captured by the raiding Ichani. Takan showed no emotions as he told Akkarin this but as the group approached from afar, Akkarin saw the muscles in Takan's jaws flexing and the man looked bleak. Akkarin wondered if perhaps this was how Takan had originally become a slave but knew better than to ask.

The Ichani was still at least an hour away and Dakova's slaves were running about making the camp look its absolute finest. Dakova wanted everything to appear spotless and Akkarin was kept busy maintaining the fire and fetching more firewood to keep the big stove going, sweating from the burning heat. Takan had been told to prepare nothing less than a feast for all inside the camp, even the slaves and when Takan required Akkarin's assistance with the preparation of the food, another slave took over the stove and Akkarin went to the well near Dakova's quarter to get himself clean. He took off his shirt which was drenched in sweat and splashed water from a bucket on his face and upper body washing off the sod and grime the best he could.

"Akkarin?" By the sound of her voice, he spun about. There she was holding a small ornamented silver pitcher in her hand. She wore a red silken gold embroidered dress. The dress was held up with golden thin buckles on her shoulders and left her back disposed almost al the way down to her lower back. Her hair had been set in a beautiful style. She looked like a flower at its fullest most beautiful time of blossoming. Dakova certainly wanted to impress today's visitor and though with Yilana he would have done so even if she had worn the usual rags, he now presented her as a piece of jewellery that would make any sane man envious.

He picked up a piece of cloth beside the bucket and dried off the water. She was so close that he felt slightly dizzy from the rush of emotions that came flooding through his mind and body. He sent her a cautious little half smile and then his smile broadened from sheer giddy happiness of being here with her.

She looked down trying to conceal her own smile and fidgeted with the pitcher. "He sent me to get some water and I cannot be delayed".

"No, of course not" he replied smoothly with the half smile still on his lips, and stepped aside just so much as she could edge her way past him to the well. They were almost touching each other and he could smell her sweet scent. She was wearing a little perfume. He moved slightly closer and sensed the heat from her body in the early evening coldness and then he slowly bent his head down so that his lips almost but touched the back of her neck.

He watched with pleasure as the tiny hairs on the back of her neck rose and he could sense her trembling from hidden emotions. He blew a little hot air on her neck and shoulders. It was not kissing but it came close. She turned her head a little towards his and she could see her lips had opened partly. He bent his head a little closer towards her and their lips nearly touched. He could feel her breath and she could feel his. Then he inhaled her scent one last time and whispered to her that he loved her. She nodded slightly. Satisfied, he straightened and went back to do his chores.

At night, the two magicians went outside after the delicious meal, Takan had prepared for them and now they were sitting around a campfire drinking and laughing out loud. Wine glasses and bottles were thrown about and the sound of glass splintering was heard throughout the camp. An anxious feeling of uncertainty lurked among the slaves despite the delicious food they had enjoyed so unexpectedly earlier on. A drunken Ichani was a bad thing and two of them were worse.

Yilana was outside as well sitting next to Dakova attending his every need, and serving him and the other Ichani wine in abundance.

Akkarin watched from a distance enjoying simply being able to look at her. Occasionally she glanced at him and his heart skipped a beat.

Tonight, Dakova was not likely to discover anything, at least not in the state of mind he was in right now and so far he had left her alone. The other Ichani also had a female slave sitting next to him but she was less fortunate as the man regularly turned around to grab her by her breasts and kiss her in a brutal disgusting manner that made Akkarin's nostrils flare in contempt.

"I'll show you how useless the Guild is", Dakova shouted "Guild slave, get over here"!

Akkarin bit his lip. Then he smoothed out all signs of feelings from his face concentrating hard to appear completely indifferent. He knew this was an expression he might not be able to keep if Dakova or the other man became violent but it helped him maintain a last shimmer of respect. And with Yilana being there he desperately wanted to appear unafraid and steadfast. So he got up and approached the fire.

"You called, Master", he said. "Yes, kneel to Kariko, slave – now!" He knelt in front of the Ichani who was so besotted that he obviously had a hard time seeing straight. After one failed attempt, the man managed to press his fingers hard against Akkarin's temples. Within his drunken mind he went through Akkarin's memories from the Guild and apparently what he found amused him as he started to laugh out loud.

"And you Guild magicians consider yourself powerful when you are in fact ruled by a King who does not even wield magic and when it's clear to any one that you don't even know how to use greater magic?" Kariko shouted and then pushed Akkarin away.

"It is true, Master, that I myself do not know greater magic, but I do believe the truth has been hidden from younger magicians. Certainly our High Lord must have the knowledge" Akkarin murmured half hoping that this would be true. Kariko, drunk as he was, narrowed his eyes and took in the words with a surprisingly serious and thoughtful expression.

Dakova pounded his guest on his shoulder demanding his attention "Brother – tell him to do something – let's have fun with my pet guild magician".

Akkarin still on his knees maintained a straight face and glanced quickly at Yilana using his half smile a little to ensure her that everything was alright. Clearly she disagreed and just looked scared. He decided he did not need her uncertainty to shake him, so he looked straight ahead not really looking at anything.

"Okay, guild slave, lets make you pretty", Kariko said and picked up a piece of charred wood from the campfire and smeared it out in Akkarin's face. "Oooh, what a scary little guild magician, we have here" he laughed.

"Yes that's right and now you get up and stand on one foot", Dakova continued sounding like a stupid little kid. Akkarin had a hard time believing the childishness but did as he was told still looking at nothing and keeping a straight unnerved gaze. Then a hand took his foot and he fell down on his behind abruptly and clumsily. They tried to make him look a fool but in front of Yilana he was not about to show any feelings of shame or discomfort. Not if he could help it. So he rose and stood tall once more.

"Brother you know he actually thought he could have some of this little piece of meat to himself", he heard Dakova growl and for a moment he lost concentration but decided not to look at Yilana and kept appearing calm and in control.

"Well, s'is niiiice ain't s'e? Kariko answered sounding more and more drunk and terribly lecherous as well.

Akkarin made a quick decision and bent down to pick up a scrap of sticky sugar cake brought outside by the two men and then he whistled. They looked up at him frowning only to watch him smack the cake right into his own face. Startled, the two drunkards looked at him, mouths wide open and then they began to laugh. Then he went to get a bottle of wine, uncorked it and poured its content all over his head. He continued to find dirt and leftovers and kept smearing them into his hair.

The two men were so drunk, they found this to be hilarious and it didn't take long before Kariko fell a sleep snoring loudly and looking stupidly happy. Dakova sat and chuckled by himself shaking his head. He drank some more wine before finally sloping sideways towards his brother also sound a sleep.

The two women sat completely still. Kariko's slave looked relieved but still bore a very tense and watchful expression. Yilana on the other hand looked up at Akkarin with a big grin and pride showing all over her face. He gave her his little half smile. What a triumph!

He went quietly over to the well, removed the dirty shirt and cleansed himself. He chuckled. It had worked. He had won this time. A small victory won in a somewhat odd manner but still a victory and most important of all, Yilana had not been hurt. And this night, he was quite certain she was not going to be harassed by Dakova at all.

He went back to the fire and told them goodnight and thanked them for a pleasant evening. Yilana shook her head smiling and for a moment, things felt almost normal.

But as he walked towards the slaves' quarters, reality came back. Had things been normal, he would have taken her with him right then and there and made love to her. He would have asked her to marry him and she would have said Yes and they would have lived happily ever after. Of that he was sure. But this was not an option. Still, tonight brought hope. He felt certain the Ichanis had shielded despite their drunkenness but their stupid behaviour meant that there might be a later chance of hurting or even killing Dakova.

As soon as he had ended the thought, he regretted it knowing that Dakova was sure to examine his mind thoroughly tomorrow. But then again, Dakova already knew his hatred towards him.

He just hoped he would not use Yilana but knew that that was probably exactly what Dakova would do. "I cannot control my inner thoughts", he thought sadly. "Ah, but how I wish I could".


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three – The Female Ichani**

Months went by and more visits followed. No more victories were won.

One day two Ichanis entered the camp; a woman and a man. They dismounted their horses and strode over to Dakova. He met them with an appraising look. "So you two are still alive – I would have thought that the two of you had gotten killed a long time ago the way you live your lives"

"Ha!" The woman replied. "As long as _they_ need assassins to do their dirty jobs they won't kill us. Don't worry about us, Dakova. We have it made. So how are you?"

Akkarin could not hear Dakova's reply and bent down to pick up another vegetable to prepare. Another feast was to be arranged and of course it would end with heavy drinking and some poor girl besides Yilana being abused.

It went exactly as he had predicted. Yilana and another slave girl were attending the two Masters who were literally all over them and Akkarin snorted in contempt.

He had told Takan to relax and was busy cleaning up the pots and pans after dinner. Suddenly he sensed somebody standing behind him and froze. The person touched his hair. He slowly turned around. It was the female Ichani. She smiled at him and pushed back his hair behind his ear and gently tugged his ear lope. "Well, well, well. I see our friend had gotten some new slaves since my last visit here. And handsome ones, too" she said.

Akkarin could feel all of his blood drain away from his face. He stared at the woman in silent shock. She kept tugging his ear lope and then let her fingers run down his neck only to rest her hand on his shoulder. "Very handsome in fact" she murmured to herself and let her eyes run up and down his body. She let her fingers run further down his arm and squeezed it as if testing his muscles. She looked quite satisfied. He just stood there.

"I _want_ you – come with me now" she said hoarsely.

Akkarin blinked but did not move. He opened his mouth to say something but no words would come out. "What are you waiting for?" she said impatiently. "I said _come_!"

"But that is not possible. I have to clean up after dinner or else the Master will be.."

"Shyss!" she cut him off. "Enough of that nonsense! Dakova wants me to have a good time and I intend to have it! There will plenty of time tomorrow to finish your job here. Right now your duties lie elsewhere".

He swallowed hard. He had never considered the fact the male slaves could just as well be used for pleasure as women could. So far the only Ichanis he had seen had been men. He shivered as she took him by his hand and he reluctantly followed her towards her tent.

What to do? He did not want her. He could not do it. What would his punishment be? He did not look towards where Yilana was sitting all though he was certain she would notice. The woman's tent was right next to Dakova's so they would have to walk right pass her. He looked down at the ground only seeing the woman's boots.

They reached her tent and she gave him a little shove on his back to push him through the tent door.

Inside it he stood still. The tent was fairly large and in the middle a huge bed had been built on top of four big rocks with wooden pallets placed on top of them to make the bottom. On top of the pallets a number of blankets had been placed in multiple layers. Candle lights had been lit up and placed all over the place.

His heart was hammering in his chest. He wanted to throw up and closed his eyes. She was walking slowly around him in circles. "What are you so nervous about, slave?" "Haven't been with a woman before? Hmm, from the looks on you I highly doubt that"

Oh, he had been with a woman before. Several actually but that was something else. Back then, he had been young, well, younger and free to do what ever he wanted. Free to choose whoever he wanted. And the girls had been willing. It had all been rather innocent and a lot of fun.

Now, there was a woman in his life that he actually loved. And he did not want anybody but her.

He could never pull this off.

"Relax" the Ichani whispered. He opened his eyes to watch her glide behind him. She starting massaging and rubbing his shoulders and neck and that only made him tense all the more. Then she stepped in front of him. He looked at her trying to let her know the insanity of it all. She narrowed her eyes, gave him a smile and abruptly tore open his shirt.

"Stop" He said and gripped her wrist. "Please stop". But she only laughed. And gently but firmly removed his hand from her wrist. "Just relax, my friend. I will give you a good time and you me"

"No"! He said, "I won't, I cannot…"

She placed two fingers on his lips. "Believe me you can. You are a man, are you not? Sit down on the bed."

"My Lady, I…" "Enough" she said. "Let's make a deal you and me. No more words! Do as I tell you and nothing bad will happen"

He knew that really there was nothing he could do. Protests would not help at all. Slowly he sat down on the bed. His back was rigid and his arms completely stiff as she pulled off his shirt. She rose and looked at him. A small teasing smile showed on her lips. Then she went to blow out the candles until only one remained lit. Akkarin was grateful for the near darkness. Her face was now in shadows. It was not that she was not attractive. But how could she think that she could force him into loving her? Or rather force him to make love to her?

She crawled up on the bed and sat behind him. He watched as her clothes were tossed out on the floor in front of him. Then she began caressing him ever so gently. She placed soft kisses on his shoulders and on his back. He resented it feeling a sour taste in his mouth.

He shivered with discomfort and she stopped realizing that he was not responding to her caresses. She rose and put on a thin night robe. Then he watched as she went to get a bottle of wine. She uncorked it and poured up some in two glasses.

"It can wait" she said and handed him a glass which he did not take. "So you are Akkarin from the Guild of Kyralia" she asked ignoring his rude behaviour.

"Yes" was his only reply.

"Interesting" she conversed and lifted her glass. "Cheers, Akkarin of the Guild".

Once more she handed out the glass for him to take. He looked at it. He wanted to smash it into bits and pieces. Instead he closed his eyes realizing what danger he put himself in by refusing her. Part of him wanted to cry. If he was going to survive this without being beaten half dead, he would have to follow suit. He opened his eyes and looked at her. He was sure she could sense his defeat and he loathed it.

Then he slowly lifted the glass out of her hand and to his lips and emptied the glass in one long drink.

He lowered the glass and looked away closing his eyes once more. He could feel the warmth of the wine entering his stomach. He needed it to work. He could not face what was about to happen with a clear mind and once again he felt a cold shiver running down his spine.

"Whoa" she said. "Don't overdo it. I want you to stay awake". He turned his head and looked her straight into the eyes.

"I am sure you do" he replied.

"I myself do not have any slaves as such. Carem and I do not live the usual Ichani life, you see". He did not respond. He did not care.

He could feel the wine starting to buzz in his head. How long ago had it been since he had tasted wine? Years at least as he had not really had any wine when he was travelling.

"Life as a female Ichani can be rather lonesome" she continued on. "Sure I have Carem but we are only together as a team. When there are no jobs to be performed I live by myself. Look I don't expect your pity. I just need you to understand where I am coming from. I am a human being and I need to feel alive and loved from time to time. As you can imagine there aren't a lot of kind men among the other Ichanis.

"And you consider yourself kind"? He asked with disgust before he could stop it. He really did not want to engage in a conversation with her.

She laughed a little. "No, I am not kind. I have killed a lot of times. I killed my uncle firstly. That's when I was thrown out of Arvice to begin with.

Then Carem found me shortly after and he taught me a lot of things killing-wise. I don't know how it happened but gradually I became very good at it. And now killing is how I make a living. I kill people for money. And I am fine with it"

She poured up some more wine into his glass. He took another drink. Everything became less clear. He felt as if he was being more remote to the situation now. The wine was beginning to let him off the hook.

Slowly his tension faded and she noticed it. She went to sit next to him. Taking his hand he flinched a bit. For a moment the sour taste filled his mouth again. He washed it away with some more wine. She kissed his hand. He closed his eyes. How could this be happening to him? Abruptly he emptied the second glass. Even though he was sitting up the room felt like spinning ever so slightly and again his mind slipped away into a hazy mess of half thoughts.

Part of him was aware of the cruel reality of it but he chose not to focus on it. The wine helped him do so. She had moved back a little and was still kissing him. The touches were so gentle and he was now so drunk that he could not help but enjoying them just a little. He closed his eyes and shivered. He was just a man really. Like anybody else he responded to being touched in a kind and loving way no matter if he wanted to or not.

"Lie down" she whispered. He did. She began kissing his chest and he closed his eyes again. He wanted to cry out for help but knew that no one was going to rescue him. He hated his body for responding to her touches.

When he felt her hot lips on his mouth he moaned for a second before he finally let his last restraint go. If this was what was going to happen then he needed to be in some sort of control. He opened his eyes and saw hers widen in surprise as he grabbed her head and pulled her away. "Now, we are talking" she chuckled. "Quiet" he told her and she gasped completely thrilled by him taking control. He rolled her around roughly to look at her. "So you really want me" he said not so much a question as a statement. "I do, I do" she whispered breathlessly. She was not a Mistress any longer. Now she was just a woman and he allowed himself to get flushed away by a bestial desire.

Afterwards, she lay sweating besides him. "My, my, my you surprise me, slave. I knew I would loosen you up but _this_. _This_ was fabulous"

Akkarin lay staring at the tent roof. Now that he was no longer caught up by his own basic needs, he resented what he had done. He told him self that he had had no choice but to fulfil her needs but he hated the fact that he had been able to. But on the other hand, he was not a child. It had just been sex after all. Good for nothing sex.

Next morning the woman acted as if she had gotten a crush on him. She helped him getting washed and dressed. Found him a new shirt. Combed his hair all the while looking at him with a foolish little smile and two red spots showing on her cheeks. She even kissed him goodbye. He wanted to hit her but instead he said dryly "If you fancy me so much then you should persuade my Master to free me" "I cannot" she said. "It means too much for Dakova to own you. You are _special_. And I must agree with him. You really are special"

He had lifted his brows but realising that she would bring him no where, he had simply left her tent. Once outside he had taken in a lot of fresh air. Cleansing him self somehow. When he returned to the slaves' tent he tore off the shirt she had put on him. He would never be able to wear it. Going outside again, he went behind the tent and finally he threw up.

The Ichani and her companion left the camp that very same day and he never saw her again. Later on he heard that one of their "jobs" had gone wrong and both had been killed.

It meant nothing to him.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four - Attacked**

More than a year had gone by. Akkarin was just over twenty-one but felt fifty.

In some ways, he had adjusted himself to being a slave. He no longer wasted his time feeling sorry for himself as he had all too soon realised that self pity did not solve anything. The 'had he not's or 'if only he'd' were left behind and he had decided to accept his present fate until opportunity showed differently. Hope for change kept him going on. At times, he lost faith but then he pulled himself together refusing to become a slave in his heart as well.

Though he had not befriended any of the slaves, they no longer acted as if they distrusted or hated him but rather ignored him. This suited him well. He succumbed to daydreaming, reflecting on issues discussed during classes when he was a novice. He went through lesson after lesson in his mind and even sought out to carry intelligent discussions with himself. Of course he knew that was one step closer to insanity that he would like to admit but there was no one else to talk to and he needed to feed his mind as best he could. The slaves were mostly illiterate and he knew and understood that they would have found such discussions senseless as they brought neither freedom nor food.

Takan was pleasant company. He was a man of few words but when the two of them were working together Akkarin relaxed and there was a certain air of respect between the two of them that felt reassuring.

As a novice Akkarin had not made friends easily either. He did not feel the need and he was aware of the fact there was something about him that kept most people his own age at a natural distance. He had had only one good friend; Lorlen.

Lorlen had not been spooked by his seemingly arrogant appearance and in him he had found a friend for life. They had the same sense of humour and could spent countless hours playing difficult and mind challenging games some of which they invented themselves. He missed Lorlen terribly but pushed the feeling aside before it really hit. At least with Takan he felt comfortable.

He now sat mending the slaves' tent which had been torn apart during a recent violent sand storm minding his own business when he suddenly was alerted by cries of alarm. He left the fabric on the ground and got up to see what the shouting was all about. The sun was fierce so he narrowed his eyes and looked in the direction of the noise. In the distance he saw clouds of dust whirling up from afar. Something or someone was approaching in a rapid speed. He went over to Takan. "What is happening?" he asked. The slave was busy removing all kitchen utensils, throwing then into a wooden chest. As Takan quickly began to remove the unprepared food as well, he glanced at Akkarin "An Ichani is attacking. We've got to get moving or else, we'll soon have a new Master or get ourselves killed". With that, Akkarin felt excitement. A new Master! Maybe a new life! But then he realised that an Ichani attacking other Ichanis was likely worse than Dakova who at least had kept mostly to himself during Akkarin's captivity. The camp had been a relatively quiet place to live, cruel but predictable in all ways with one knowing what to do and what not to do.

'_I have got to warn her!' _he suddenly thought and ran towards Dakova's tent. Before he got there, Dakova came running out with Yilana hurrying behind him. Akkarin stopped 'Master, someone is heading straight for us. Takan believes we are being attacked' he said, but clearly Dakova had figured out as much for himself. He took out his knife and without being asked, Akkarin handed out his arm. Dakova called out and all slaves lined up. The cloud of dust came nearer and everybody wanted to give away their power as quickly as possible.

An old slave fell to the ground dead as Dakova forgot to stop the draining before it was too late but there was not enough time to feel shock or sorrow and the body was left on the ground as if the old man had been nothing more than an worn out pair of trousers.

Then Dakova sent them away telling them to meet him south of the camp in a small valley.

As they were leaving Akkarin felt utterly useless. He wanted to fight if it meant avoiding a destiny worse than this. He had been an excellent warrior. During his warrior classes, no one had ever defeated him. Not only had he been the strongest of the young novices and perhaps of the entire Guild but he had also found ways to deceive and trick his opponents without using all of his power and he liked the strategy of the duels. To figure out how to lure the opponents into believing what his next move would be and then take them by surprise. But out here, his warrior skills had proven worthless and he knew that even if he had had any power, he could do little to nothing against the overwhelming power of an Ichani.

The slaves gathered close in the valley. The dust cloud settled as the attackers had reached their destination. 'How many could there be? Akkarin wondered. From the cloud it had seemed that at least ten men on horsebacks must have been storming in. But it didn't add up with the fact that most Ichanis were loners. This he had learned from Yilana. In fact, socially, the Ichanis were so ill adjusted that they not only resented the King who had exiled them but also resented and mistrusted those who shared the same faith as themselves.

'It must have been an illusion' he reasoned to himself and relaxed. Ten Ichanis would have meant certain failure for Dakova. He thought to tell the others this good news but decided against it. What difference did it make for any of them anyway?

Then the fighting began.

From their hide out, all they could do was to listen to the sound of the loud crashes that tore through the air as strike after strike was being sent out from the camp. A giant flash of light lit up the afternoon sky only to be followed by yet another lightning strike.

Suddenly an enormous boom sent shock waves through the ground and they all fell to the ground hands above their heads trying to protect themselves. But no debris came falling down. All slaves however now remained in the low position.

Akkarin regarded the other slaves. Some cried but soundlessly, obviously too afraid to and at the same time concentrating hard to hear as much of the fight as possible.

Trails of smoke began to well up from the camp. Clearly the devastation was vast. But so far Dakova had not been defeated. The sky continued to light up and yet another shock wave hit, making the earth move. The powers were so great that Akkarin had a hard time believing it. Surely Dakova was strong but he could by no means continue to use so much of his power. This was unsettling. Hopefully what they heard was the other Ichani pounding away.

All at once, the fighting stopped. The silence was overwhelming.

The slaves held their breaths. Now what?

Then Takan said 'Get down all of you! Lay on the ground! We can't have much power any of us so maybe we won't be detected. Play dead. All of you! Without a word, everyone slumped down to the ground. Not on top of each other but in an uneven line to make it more believable that the Master had used up his resources one by one and fast.

Akkarin braced himself grateful that there were no children among them. The youngest slave, Makar, looked about fifteen and was old enough to do as he was told.

Then slow dragging steps of someone approaching the valley could be heard.

About fifty steps away, the person stopped. A curse was heard. The man's voice did not belong to Dakova.

"Son of a whore killed them"…. "Should've figured out that much"… The man continued and went a little closer. He groaned a bit as he moved. He was injured.

Akkarin's chest hurt from trying not to move while breathing. Was Dakova dead? What would happen next? This man obviously wanted to take a closer look and then their slaughter would be inevitable.

Then a strike so forceful that they were pressed down to the ground came slamming through the air. It blew the Ichani into bits and pieces and covered them all with smudges of blood and human waste.

Dakova had survived…. and won the fight.

Slowly they all staggered to their feet and watched in fearful awe as their Master appeared. His clothes were torn, blood was pouring out from a gash in his shoulder. But as he stood there he looked more powerful than ever.

They returned to what had once been their camp. Nothing was left. Takan's headless attempt to protect his beloved utensils had all been in vain. In fact the place had been blown to pieces and the entire area was covered with large sodden holes.

'Get moving, its time to find a new place to live', Dakova said out loud. And they left without looking back.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five – On the Move**

After the attack, Dakova's personality changed – and not for the better. He grew suspicious to the extreme and dealt out irrational and cruel punishments to his slaves on a regular basis.

One day, the young boy Makar accidentally spilled a bucket of goat milk and Dakova beat him so severely that the boy died that same evening never gaining conscience again.

Inside the slaves' tent everybody quietly mourned the boy's violent death. Nobody said it out loud but it was clear that even to the slaves the episode seemed horrible and unjust. Bad times were coming and uneasiness and fear made everybody tense and wary. The tent door flapped in the wind and the body of Makar which had been wrapped in a blanket and laid out side showed. He was not to get a grave – Dakova had forbidden it.

Makar had been a good child – an orphan like most of the slaves and the only one to sometimes make the slaves laugh out loud due to his youthful giddy behaviour.

Akkarin sighed and laid down turning his head away from the view and drew up his blanket. His stomach was rumbling – Dakova had decided that none of the slaves were to have any food that day. This sort of group punishment happened often now and the slaves looked more and more starved as time went by. Some were not going to make it through for long. Akkarin let his fingers run up his ribs. The skin felt old and too big for his body. Thin as paper and barely keeping him from turning into a live skeleton.

As they left next morning, Akkarin glanced back at Makar's body lying so exposed in the sun – surely the blanket would not keep out vultures and the thought was repulsive.

They never settled in the same area for more than 2 or 3 days at a time anymore. Dakova did not want to risk being easily found by possible enemies but the packing and unpacking, carrying and walking was hard on the slaves.

As the slaves eventually grew fewer from starvation and mistreatment, Dakova decided to go hunting for new supplies.

Akkarin watched in horror as he saw whole families being slain in Dakova's search for potential slaves. Afterwards, whenever a massacre had taken place he and a couple of other slaves were sent inside the houses to take what ever there was left of value and food while stepping over dead bodies of men, women and children. The sight made Akkarin sick to his stomach but eventually he grew accustomed to it and was able to block out most of the terrifying sights from his memory without throwing up.

Yilana marched along with the slaves – only Dakova rode on a horse – and she and Akkarin were able to walk next to one another without Dakova interfering. It was good to have her close but most of the time they were too tired to talk much. A little look once in while was comforting though and occasionally they bumped into each other if Akkarin lost his balance walking in the sometimes very difficult terrain. She was carrying Dakova's clothes while Akkarin was carrying firewood in a big sack slung over his shoulder. The weight was considerable and the sharp edges on the wood cut into his back making his blood flow.

Each night he had to sleep face down as it was impossible to sleep on his back and every morning his arms and back were aching so much that the thought of lifting that sack up for yet another long day of walking made his heart sink. But he was not the only one having to carry too much for too long and there was nothing to do but keep on moving.

After walking for a month without settling down and without much sleep or food, they finally stopped by a small green forest with clear water welling out from under a rock formation. Cool wonderful underground water and plenty of it. The camp was set up quickly and moods were rising. There were fruits on the trees and berries on the bushes and a rabbit family was found and killed. There was going to be enough food for everybody and the slaves were doing their best not to cause any offence to their Master fearing that he would once again forbid them to eat.

Akkarin was in a good mood. He skinned and gutted the rabbits and helped Takan as usual preparing and roasting some of the meat. The smell of the roasting rabbits filled the nostrils of everybody and Akkarin's mouth started watering. Ah, but he was hungry!

There was nothing more to do for the moment, so he left Takan to go to the well and fill up a bucket of water. Keeping his head down to get the water made him dizzy. Then he walked over to the slave tent and went inside. He took off his shirt carefully. The rough fabric clung to his back and when he had managed to get it off swearing silently from the pain each time the material reluctantly let go of his wounds, he held it out to look at it. The back of his shirt or what was left of it was dark brown and stiff from dried blood and in total rags. He snorted and threw the shirt over to the corner. He was not going to get a new one so next time they were leaving he would have to turn it around so that the sack would get a new side to begin cutting in to. For now, he would wash it and maybe if there was enough time, he would try mending it a bit.

He took a cloth and began washing his aching back thankful that he at least did not have to watch his back while doing so. The cool water felt soothing but when he rinsed the cloth the first time the water turned red. He swallowed but continued washing his back. Then he went outside to get more clean water. Back in the tent he discarded the cloth and got a new one. He washed his face and body as best he could. Somehow he was certain Dakova would be mildly displeased if he saw him actually spending time taking a bath. He had to chuckle a little at his own understatement. Dakova would be furious. Right now, however, Dakova had left the camp scouting for possible nearby enemies. It had been a welcome routine that their Master left for a couple of hours whenever they settled in a new place.

Finally Akkarin washed his back a last time satisfied that the cloth and water was only turning slightly reddish. Again he went outside but this time to get some water in order to clean his shirt.

He had learned that some plants produced a substance similar to soap too harsh for the body but perfect for doing laundry and he was lucky to find one of these plants rather quickly. He noticed some holes in the dirt next to the plant showing that other slaves had gotten the same idea. None however were washing anything right now. He shrugged and once again went over to the tent and sat outside soaking and washing the shirt. It had to be done carefully in order not to rip the material further. He could not go on without a shirt. It offered protection from the burning sun and gave some shelter from the cold nights.

After soaking, rinsing and gently robbing the garment he decided that that was enough. He left the shirt by the tent pole to dry and returned to the fire. Takan had peeled a lot of strange looking orange rods and a pot of something was cooking smelling delicious. Takan looked up for a moment, but then returned his attention to his cooking. Akkarin made sure the fire was still burning and grabbed the damned sack to find more wood in the small forest.

"That back of yours needs treatment", Takan said. Akkarin stopped to look at the man. He sighed. "Yes I am aware of it, Takan. As you can see, I have treated it as best I could". "No, Takan said, I know you have washed it but you need to get it treated to avoid getting an infection. Yilana has this ointment…… "

Takan stopped and looked away. "Look, I know it is a risk, but you need to go to her and get her to treat your back. Hurry before the Master returns".

Akkarin hesitated. His back burned and he knew he was warmer than usual standing out here in the early evening not feeling cold at all. It could be a fever coming. "Thank you, Takan; I hope our Master will take his time today". He walked away quickly and called out for Yilana who was inside the Master's tent.

She lifted the tent door so she could peek out. "Akkarin! What are you doing here?"

"My back", he said, "Takan thinks I am risking an infection and to be honest I don't feel well" - she reached out and touched his forehead. "You are burning up!" she exclaimed. And suddenly he felt ill.

"Come inside" she said. "We have to do this quickly". So he lowered his head and stepped inside the tent and sat down on the ground. She quickly made a mixture and rubbed it gently into the skin on his back. It stung just as the first time she had treated him but instead of moaning, he murmured to her that it felt good. And it did. The touch of her hands sent a pleasant shiver down his spine.

She ignored it. "Now drink this". He gulped down a bitter mixture of herbs. "It will soothe your fever", she said. "Here", she handed him a bag of herbs, telling him how to mix it. "You must drink a cup of this blend three times a day for the next couple of days. Now go…please".

He rose and turned to watch her. "He will know anyway", he said. "Well", she said. "I have ways to make him forget to truth read. At least for a day or two". He winced at the thought. But she was right. A couple of days were all he needed to heal with her mixture and the herbs. "Thank you", he said. He reached out and touched her cheek slowly and then he left.

Dakova returned half an hour later. By then Akkarin had covered his back with his damp shirt and had gone to collect fire wood. He dragged his finding back to the camp. He could feel that it would be unreasonable to start chopping the wood tonight if he wanted to get better so he sat down by the tent with the other slaves and waited until Dakova had finished his meal. They were anxious to see how much food Dakova would let them have. Akkarin feared that one of the women would not make it through the night if she didn't get any food this evening. Dakova had not left his tent since returning and Akkarin knew what was going on in there. What a waste of life! To be owned and maltreated by another human being and not be able to do anything about it but to comply.

An hour later Dakova appeared. He went over to Takan who had stayed at the fire and then he returned to his tent. Back to Yilana. It was completely dark now, but they heard Takan stirring in a pot and finally he came over to sit with them carrying a large pot of rabbit stew. They ate as if they were animals. Scoping down the food, all eating out of the same pot. Manners did not mean anything when you were starving.

Akkarin and a couple of the other slaves helped Takan clean the pots and then they could all finally rest. The fever was burning inside him but he drank a cup of Yilana's mixture and went to sleep. His stomach hurt because he had eaten too much too quickly and he could hear quiet moans from several of the slaves indicating that they too had over eaten. Still, it was far better than the persistent pain of hunger.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six – Crossing the Wasteland**

"You! Come here!" Dakova ordered. Akkarin straightened his back. He had been chopping wood all morning. Hopefully they would stay at the camp for a long time the thought of carrying that bag again being sickening.

His back was much better and he didn't have any fever. Three days of drinking Yilana's mixture had chased away the infection. It had been impossible to reach her to get her to treat his back again but nevertheless, it felt as if it had healed alright.

"Yes, Master?"

"I need you to come with me. We leave now. Fetch some water – Takan has packed some food as well. Go get it".

Akkarin did as he was told, feeling a little uneasy. Usually Dakova brought more than one slave whenever he went far away. What could his reasons be for taking just him? At least, it indicated that he was not about to attack another farm.

They walked in silence for three days. Dakova seemed to be mind communicating from time to time, Akkarin noticed. At night, the man took power from Akkarin as always and afterwards, they went to sleep under the open sky. On the third day, a man met up with them bringing horses and supplies. One horse was handed over to Akkarin who took the reins managing not to look surprised. He swung himself up in the saddle and reined in the horse, padding it gently on the neck. It felt wonderful to ride again.

They had had a big stable in his childhood home with several magnificent horses. He could not have been more than three years old when his father first took him out to show him his first horse. It had been a little old mare but Akkarin had fallen in love with her at first sight. He suddenly felt a big lump in his throat which he cleared immediately shoving the memory away before his emotions got the best of him.

He urged the animal to move on and quickly caught up with the two men who were going away fast. Dakova did not even glance at his direction certain that Akkarin would not attempt to escape.

They rode for two more days only stopping when absolutely necessary. Then another man met them with fresh horses and more food and beverages and rode off with the ones they had been using so far.

They continued at high speed. The terrain had changed. There were more trees and vegetation in general. Farms appeared with people occupying them who apparently were not frightened by the strangers on horsebacks. Akkarin's heart began beating rapidly – free people were walking only a short distance away. What a sight! Children were playing without a care in the world. There were ordinary lives just in front of him. It made him feel happy and extremely sorry at the same time. His own life seemed completely surreal. He looked at Dakova's back wondering what was on his mind and why they were leaving the Wasteland.

Could they be going to the Capital? They were definitely heading in the direction of Arvice. Akkarin felt a chill – hopes of escaping in the big city came to him. He kept a smooth expression while thinking about the possibilities of escape. Surely it should be possible to disappear in a crowd. Or perhaps call out for help? Dakova had drawn power from him every day as usual but had not read his mind. Whatever his intentions were they kept him strangely preoccupied.

Finally they saw the city of Arvice in the distance. Towers of all shapes and heights glittered in the sunlight. Even from afar, the city carried the impression of wealth in the same exaggerated way, the Ichanis liked to dress themselves. As if they were trying too hard to appearing wealthy and in control. Keeping up appearances was a style, no doubt caused by the devastation of their country during the guild war centuries ago. The whole country reeked of low self esteem, Akkarin thought to himself. And of a way of life that was completely wrong, he added bitterly. Could there be slaves in Arvice? Were they tortured as he and so many others had been? Could a society exist when some of its population were enslaved and mistreated? It seemed unlikely but then again, he had now been living as a slave for nearly two years without much fighting. A fact, he was utterly ashamed of. But dying or being beaten half dead didn't help – when opportunity showed he would grasp it.

But so far there had been no way of avoiding Dakova and therefore, it was quite possible that there were classes of people even more separated from each other than those in the city of Imardin, he acknowledged sadly.

They slowed down and stopped about two miles away from the city gates. Dakova and his companion parted solemnly and then the other man headed back towards the Wasteland.

"When we enter Arvice, I will have no clever remarks or any attempts of escape from your side. I require you to remain silent and obedient and to do exactly as you are told. If you displease me in any way, I will have you flogged". Akkarin did not doubt that. "Sometimes" Dakova continued "the King decides to reconsider his sentence of Exile and I have been offered a rare chance of being accepted back to Arvice. You will accompany me – you were born noble so I do not have to tell you how to behave at the Royal Court – as I have said I will tolerate no ill-considered moves or anything at all that will make me look bad in front of the Nobilities. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Master" Akkarin replied and nodded his head. Dakova narrowed his eyes and kept staring at Akkarin for a while. Akkarin kept his eyes low. "Here", a shirt was tossed over to him and he discarded the rags he was wearing and put on the new white shirt. It was a bit too big of course. He snorted silently. Dakova apparently did not want to show the truth about his slave's condition. Finally the Master turned his horse about and headed for the Gates.

Akkarin drew in a deep breath. So he was to meet the Sachakan King. If the King was of a peace loving nature, surely he would resent the fact that a foreigner, and one of the Guild no less, had been turned into a slave. He would perhaps free Akkarin and send him back to Kyralia in order to ensure peace?

But would the King find out? Dakova would not allow Akkarin to utter a word of his situation. Why did Dakova bring him along, then?

And who was to say that the King wanted peace?

Then it hit him. He was not really to meet the King as much as he was to be turned into the Court of Arvice in order for the King to learn all there was to know about the Guild and its weaknesses. And in return for the important gift, Dakova would become, of all things, a respectable citizen.

Akkarin would be the sole reason why Kyralia and the allied Lands would be attacked by incredibly strong magicians. And they were doomed to loose such a war. Never had he felt such self hate. He would be known as the greatest betrayer of the Alliance ever – if he had not been foolish enough to venture into the unknown territory of Sachaka all by himself two years ago without letting anyone know where he was heading simply out of the need for adventure, this would never have happened.

A lot of things would not have happened.

It had been a while since he had thought of himself as an individual – seeing how little the slaves or innocent people mattered to Dakova, he knew that there was little chance of the man regarding him any differently. Akkarin did not expect him to either. He did not feel superior to his fellow slaves even though he came from a different background. Being a slave had taught him that it was a matter of sheer luck if you were highborn and people of a less fortunate beginning in life were just as intelligent as any Nobility. They just did not get a chance to prove themselves. Not even in Imardin. But now he felt personally responsible for the destiny of the Allied Countries.

As they approached the Gates, Dakova took out a letter. The two guards in front of the city gates eyed him warily and one of them asked him to present himself. "My name is Dakova and I have been invited to a possible pardon from Exile by the King. Here is the formal notification". The guard took the paper and read it. "'And who is this, then" the guard asked and nodded towards Akkarin. "Property". The guard nodded not paying any more attention to Akkarin and gave a signal to guards standing on the walls above the gates and shortly after, the gates began to open. "You are to go to the Court immediately. We will escort you all the while. Do not attempt to flee us. Any such action will result in an immediate attack and consequently with your execution", the guard closest by warned. Akkarin realised that the guards were all magicians. Dakova didn't reply but simply waited until they were surrounded by six guards on horsebacks. Then they began to move. They trotted along and the people in the streets stopped and watched them. There was resentment in their eyes but some seemed curious when they looked at Akkarin who was clearly a foreigner. But as they realised he was but a slave they quickly averted their gazes back to Dakova.

The streets were narrow and turned this and that way. There were banners on most of the buildings and the houses were painted in bright colours with vivid decorations all over – it was an overwhelming sight.

The guards kept very close. "So much for escaping in the crowd", Akkarin thought wryly.

Finally they came to an open square. Behind a giant fence, the Royal Palace towered. It was enormous and even more pretentious than the other buildings he had passed so far. The Palace of Imardin was not exactly simple either, he pondered. After all, a Royal Palace needed Grandeur to some extent.

They approached the palace gates which opened smoothly and closed again as the two guards behind them had passed the entrance. To the right were the Royal Stables and stable boys stood awaiting ready to take their mounts.

Another servant approached. "Please follow me. His majesty has arranged for you to have a bath and a meal before the audience". Akkarin and Dakova dismounted and followed the servant.

Inside the palace they were taken through a long corridor with marble floors and walls. Paintings on the ceiling portrayed a mixture of flowers and stars as well of battle fields – all of them showing Sachakan victory over black clad Guild Magicians.

"I will escort your servant to the Servants' Wing", the man informed Dakova.

Akkarin stilled – he was to stay in a different wing! Certainly escape should be possible if he was taken away from Dakova. "Do not worry" the Servant Mistress will keep an eye on him", the servant added. "It is customary that the King's guests are served by Royal servants – anything else would disgrace his Majesty" he added.

Dakova glared at Akkarin, and then grunted something affirmative.

Akkarin followed the servant, possibilities of flight going through his head all the while. They turned into a different wing and went up a staircase for several floors and finally entered another marble corridor without paintings on the ceiling.

A tall dignified woman stood ready to greet him. She was old and stern looking. "Good afternoon – my name is Servant Mistress Pikara. You will be under my authority whilst you are away from your Master" she announced. "What is your name"?

Akkarin replied. "Very well, Akkarin. Welcome" She sniffed, "You certainly need a bath, but first, we must give you something to eat. His Majesty does not enjoy looking at mistreated property mind you and you are in deed a sorry sight".

He was seated at a table and served a hot bowl of chicken soup to begin with. It tasted rich and wonderful and he savoured every single spoonful. Then they gave him another course with a variety of vegetables and some roasted meat. He knew he was not accustomed to so much food and tried to eat it very slowly chewing and chewing and swallowing very slowly each time drinking a sip of water. "Hmm", Pikara said. "I don't like what I am seeing. I know you are trying hard but you need a little more time to adjust your body to proper food, so do not eat any more. Trust me I have seen your kind before. You must rest now, Akkarin. Come along, I have had the servants prepare a hot bath for you in your room".

"But the meeting?" he asked "Will not take place the next couple of days. His Majesty is away on important business and is not likely to return soon. But as your Master is not allowed to leave the premises either, we want to give him this news belatedly in order not to upset him right away. Right now, he is being treated as Nobility so he will probably not be eager to end the visit any time soon – customs require that all Masters are being treated equally while staying at the Palace – even a man such as Dakova".

They entered a bedroom with a bath room next to it, steam coming out from it.

"Listen to me Akkarin, you are not the first Wasteland slave I have encountered and I know and understand that you want to escape. Especially you being a foreigner. But according to Sachakan Laws, the King is bound to honour his guests no matter where they come from or what they have done and that includes making certain, that no property leaves the palace so I will have to lock your room when I leave".

"And if I try to fight my way out?" "You will be caught and punished – we cannot accept disgrace".

"How can you so easily accept slavery?" he asked in a low bitter voice.

"Slavery? We do not regard ourselves as common slaves. We are servants, property if you like, belonging to higher magicians. It is a very great honour to be able to sustain the Sachakan way of life. Without us, our country would fall apart. Our Masters need our power to draw from", she explained. "A good Master provides food, clothes, and a home to live in… Well, some servants even have their own houses and they are not small ones either. I am most honoured to be property of the King – what more can any servant want?"

She sighed and looked at him and continued in a softer voice. "However, I know that the wasteland common slaves work under harder conditions… Then she continued "But property is after all property and a good servant knows the significance of his own existence and appreciates the honour involved with being a Master's servant".

Akkarin snorted "Servant" he hissed "We are slaves and are treated as slaves! I see no honour at all. People are being tortured, starved, killed at a whim – your Majesty acts as if the Wasteland does not exist. As if he is not responsible for what actions the Ichanis take. The Wasteland population needs help! Honour" he sneered "I resent it"

She did not reply but regarded him closely. Then she reached out and patted him gently on his shoulder. "I am very sorry for you" she said quietly. Then she went over to the door, told him goodnight and locked the door.

Akkarin stared at the locked door for a little while. Then he went into the bath room. The hot bath loosened his sore muscles and he stayed in the tub for a long time. Afterwards, he stood in front of the mirror. In it he saw a thin sickly appearing man who looked about ten years older than he actually was. He had shaved himself and combed his hair and had expected to be able to recognise his old self but the image looked nothing like what he had used to look like. His face looked far too serious and his eyes – looked tired and – he regarded the image closer ….wise. Like those belonging to an old man. He tried to smile but it looked crooked and false. He had not done much smiling lately.

He went to lie down on the bed. It felt extremely soft even though he knew it was just a thin worn-out mattress. For a moment he lay staring at the ceiling concentrating on just feeling comfortable for a change. Then he sighed and fell asleep.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven – Within the Palace **

Next morning, he noticed with pleasure how good he felt. Well rested and relaxed, he rose, washed and put on the clean clothes Servant Mistress Pikara had left for him last night. Then he went over to the window looking out. He was perhaps five floors above the ground and noticed that there were no ledges or cornices to climb on. A fall would mean certain death so escape through the window was impossible.

A knock sounded at the door. "Good Morning, Akkarin. Are you awake?" the Servant Mistress asked. "Yes, please do come in", he answered.

"Ah, you look much better, such improvement compared to yesterday", she said sounding very pleased.

"Yes, it seems sleep and food are not overrated survival methods after all", he commented dryly.

The mistress paid no attention to his remark and took him a room where other servants were seated as well having breakfast. He ate with pleasure a full meal consisting of bread, eggs, oatmeal and milk.

Afterwards, the Servant Mistress told him that he was to go to Dakova on his Master's bidding.

He followed a servant down to Dakova's quarters. The servant knocked on the door, announcing their arrival and then left.

Dakova stood in the huge Master bedroom with his dagger ready at hand and Akkarin knelt and raised his arm towards him. When it was done, Dakova beckoned him to come a little closer in order for him to take hold of Akkarin's temples. Akkarin could only watch as his own memories and words about the Wasteland were related. Dakova finished and met Akkarin's eyes.

"Do you think that it matters what a servant believes or feels or says? Do you think anyone would listen to her? She is a slave – no matter what she prefers to call it. Still your words have caused me to risk losing the King's favour should he contrary to common sense listen to her – remove your shirt and receive your punishment".

Akkarin pursed his lips and then he looked Dakova straight into his eyes. Having been reminded of a near ordinary life, Akkarin remembered who and how he used to be. He could no longer be intimidated or hurt. He had been beaten far too many times since his initial punishment to feel anything but disgust and he let his master know this with a penetrating gaze. Dakova's eyes flickered momentarily.

Then Akkarin narrowed his eyes and spoke.

"I would strongly advice against any such actions until after you have met with the King. Were the Servant Mistress to find out she would be inclined to believe that the palace slaves had been unable to meet with your requirements since you obviously had requested my services and found me wanting. In other words, you had also found the King's hospitality wanting which would be a disgrace".

Dakova also narrowed his eyes and his expression was furious. Then as the words sank in, the creases on his forehead disappeared and he grunted.

"Oh, you are clever, guild slave. Well then, a postponement it is and do not think that I will forget it" He rang a bell and shortly after the same man, who had accompanied Akkarin to Dakova's room appeared and escorted Akkarin back to the Servant quarters.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight – Arvice and Imardin**

Akkarin had regained his confident stride.

He enjoyed walking around in the areas of the palace where he was allowed admittance. The architecture and the ornamented wallpapers and ceilings were impressing. The structures had been magically enhanced creating seemingly supernatural details which he could only admire. Compared to the architectural finesses of the Guild, the Sachakan architecture was refined. In some areas magically crafted statues were situated and ever so subtly they changed in appearances and stances leaving one with the impression of near life.

He learned that slaves had made the beautiful paintings and crafted the ornamented tapestries as well as the statues before their Masters added the magic.

Servant Mistress Pikara clearly appreciated his company and invited him into her private suite on the second day. This was undoubtedly a grand gesture of hers and he thanked her politely for inviting him in. Her reason was simple though. She had guessed from his manners that he was an educated man and therefore was able to read. She herself was one of but few of the palace staff who could read, and she handed him books about Sachaka in order for the two of them to carry out conversations about her country and for her to gain knowledge about the Kyralian way of life as well.

She was eager to learn more and he in return found it interesting to hear more about the Sachakan history from the Sachakan capital's point of view. He understood that the residents in Arvice, slaves and masters alike, took great pride in their city and country. The entire society in Sachaka consisted of only slaves and masters and generally the slaves approved of and accepted the system. He did not point out the ironic fact that she solely referred to herself as a servant instead of a slave, not wanting to belittle her in any way.

Servant Mistress Pikara found it only natural that a common slave would be physically punished if dissatisfying his master. "We need stability. Our country was crushed by the magicians from your homeland and without firm rules our society would not be where it is today. A country cannot function if everybody have their own free will", she stressed out.

Akkarin wondered about the statement which as it was, was true for the way high borne people in Kyralia thought as well. He had been taught the same view and had never before questioned it. But of course the people in Kyralia were free. Still, order was necessary and surely the wealthiest were the best to rule? They had the education and the natural flair for ruling, had they not? He decided that he would have to agree with the Servant Mistress while not supporting the idea of slaves and masters to ensure law and order.

Still he could not help wondering about the fact that people were divided into higher and lower classes. He had been forced into being the lowest of low; a Sachakan Waste slave. He had had no say about it and clearly it was unjust and mortifying. But had the lover classes in his homeland any say or choice at all and was there justice in Kyralia? At once, he dismissed the thought and sent out a thought to the King of Kyralia whom he had pledged allegiance – an oath he would hold on to.

Servant Mistress Pikara as well, was very patriotic and Akkarin had to weigh his words carefully in order not to offend her but generally she was of a surprisingly open mind. In the evening he sat reading the books she had given him and savoured every line. For a brief moment, he closed his eyes overwhelmed with joy of just being able to read again. He opened his eyes again and quickly averted his gaze to the book in his hands.

All night long, he read and read and the day after, he spent the next one talking with the Servant Mistress.

On the fifth day, it was announced that the King had returned. Akkarin knew that this would bring an end to his pleasant stay at the Royal Palace.

The master had said nothing to him during their morning routines but it was evident that he was eager to meet the king and Akkarin resented the fact that he would play a part in Dakova's plan to get reaccepted into Arvice.

Thus it was with great displeasure that Akkarin received the order to dress up and go to Dakova's rooms late that afternoon. He went to his room and picked up the ceremonial clothes left there for him by the Servant Mistress. He was to put on a white shirt donned with a white tie that he was to tie loosely around his neck in a loose bow. Furthermore he was to put on a dark grey west and long trousers. The Mistress had even left a silken ribbon matching the dark colours of the suit for him to tie up his hair in a tail trailing down the back of his neck.

He sighed and gave himself a measuring look in the mirror. He certainly looked nothing like a Wasteland slave anymore – in fact he looked quite imposing. For what it was worth he would do what ever he could not to be the cause for a Sachakan invasion of the Allied countries. He hoped he would be allowed to speak to the king however he felt quite certain that he was just to be presented as proof of the Guild's inadequacy.

Well, for once his Master would find him rebellious as he was willing to risk his life for the sake of Kyralia no matter if that meant breaking court rules.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine – A Royal Pardon**

They marched along the corridors going this and that way and finally entered the grand door to the Royal Audience Hall. A high pitched servant announced their arrival.

The King was seated on a dais at the end of the hall. He looked rather imposing. Akkarin walked behind Dakova and seeing Dakova kneel, he knelt as well bowing his head to the Sachakan ruler.

"Rise" the king said and addressed the Ichani.

"Ichani Dakova, you have been summoned here to let us know if you are worthy of re-entering the city of Arvice as a citizen. Let Us hear your plea.

Dakova straightened and thanked the king for allowing him a possible pardon.

"I have in deed deserved re-admittance into the city of Arvice as I have discovered truths none would have thought possible about the much hated Guild.

I caught this slave who stands behind me two years ago and I have learned much from him that would enable our country to conquer the Allied countries and pay back the Guild for what they did to our beloved Fatherland. He used to be a guild magician"

The king's eye brows rose but apart from that he remained motionless.

Dakova turned to regard Akkarin who returned his look levelly and for a moment Akkarin sensed Dakova being nervous. This was very satisfying even though he of course did not benefit from it.

"As you can see, this former guild magician stands here before your Majesty a slave and a living proof that the Guild is no longer a threat to Sachaka. I offer your Majesty the opportunity to read his mind and know for yourself that I speak the truth. I will take great pride in assisting his Majesty with attacking and destroying the Guild. With this I hope to receive a pardon" he added awkwardly".

Dakova bowed his head and stepped aside for the King to regard Akkarin.

The king considered Dakova. He did not look terribly impressed but not disinterested either.

"Slave, approach" the King demanded.

Akkarin went over to the king and knelt before him.

As soon as the King placed his hands on Akkarin's temples, Akkarin started sending him messages. He knew of course that the King could gain access to any information he wanted but he had to show the King what Dakova was like. He had to show the King that Dakova was by far a man who could be trusted with power or people. He bombarded the king with memories of every single raid, murder, rape, abuse and mistreatment, he had seen and experienced during his two years as a wasteland slave. He showed him the dead children, the molested daughters, Yilana… He showed him anything that he could think of making the King understand what a monster, Dakova truly was.

"Enough!" the King said and took control of Akkarin's mind. He did examine memories of Akkarin's past and about the Guilds magical abilities but also explored the more present memories. Finally he removed his hands.

"Dakova – what you have told me is the truth. The Guild and the Allied Lands are no longer a threat to us. An invasion would be easy"

Akkarin tensed and raised his head to look at the King. The king ignored him.

"I hold the Guild responsible for our country's ruin. I hold the Guild entirely responsible for what has happened to the part of our destroyed county that is now the Wasteland" the King added and his eyes were cold as ice. "The Guild is to blame for all the blood shed, for every single death that happens in the Wasteland as far as I am concerned. An alliance between the Guild and Sachaka can never be considered and can only be compared to an alliance between a cat and a mouse".

Akkarin glanced sideways to see Dakova barely concealing a smug smile.

"Your Majesty".

The King looked surprised and offended, but Akkarin continued.

"As a Kyralian, as a former Guild magician, I offer you my humble apologies. You have every right to blame the Guild for creating the Wasteland. The war, however, ended hundreds of year ago. With the guild's help, trade could be strengthened, the Wasteland could be rebuilt. I implore you to consider other possibilities besides war and vengeance – I will serve you for the rest of my life – I will do whatever I can to assist your Royal Highness in making the Wasteland prosper" It was a desperate attempt to change the King's mind but he had to try.

"You, slave of Dakova, are not my property and cannot give yourself away. The proposal alone is offensive. I do not approve of a foreigner, let alone a Guild Magician, having been made a slave but that is what you are and you should know your place. I have no use for you. Return to your Master".

Akkarin nodded slightly, rose and walked back to Dakova who sent him a hateful stare. He resumed his position behind his Master. He had no regrets whether his action would cost him his life of not. It had been his simple duty as a Kyralian Guild Magician to say and do what he had done. Now he waited for the King to speak to Dakova.

"Ichani Dakova, the plea of yours is interesting. You are here today to let me decide whether I can once again allow you to be accepted as a citizen of Arvice. What I have learned here today has made it much easier for me to make the right decision on the matter"

Dakova straightened his back eager to hear the King's decision.

"Your pardon has been denied" The king said flatly.

"I have no use for a man that abuses his slaves and kills off people, even children at a whim. This is not the Sachakan way of life. I have seen no signs or heard any arguments making me believe that you have changed. You must leave Arvice immediately and are never to return to the city again"

"Your Majesty" Dakova exclaimed "but the Guild – the information I have given you – will you not reclaim what we have lost? This slave has valuable knowledge. An attack would be straightforward – does this not validate me?"

"What will happen to the Guild will be my decision" the King said. "Now leave".

Dakova nodded his head and turned around abruptly. He pushed Akkarin aside and strode out of the room. Akkarin turned to look at the King one last time. The king barely noticed him.

Akkarin bowed to the King and followed Dakova.

They were escorted outside immediately. The horses stood ready and their belongings had been packed. It seemed as if the reply to Dakova's plea had been decided beforehand.

Akkarin swung himself up in the saddle. He turned his horse so he could look up towards the Servants' wing. He searched the windows and found what he was looking for; the Servant Mistress Pikara.

Seeing the sorrow in her eyes, he looked down. He pulled himself together and looked up again, nodded politely to her and turned to follow Dakova and the escort out of the city of Arvice – back to the Wasteland.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten – Wasteland Return**

What would happen would happen – Akkarin was aware of the fact that he probably would not live to see the next day. It only pained him that he might never see Yilana again but right now being dragged after a horse and doing his best not too fall did not leave room for troublesome speculations.

They had left the city and once clear of the guards' view Akkarin had been thrown off his horse by a force strike. Dakova's wrath had been so violent that in truth Akkarin had not expected to live.

Dakova's strikes had been raining down on him, making his skin and clothes burn and his body ache. He rolled around in the sand, swallowed some and nearly choked on it while trying not to get killed.

Dakova grabbed his whip, jumped off his horse and pulled Akkarin towards a tree tying him to it. Akkarin received the flogging without a sound. Finally out of annoyed frustration from Akkarin's silence, Dakova hit him in the head with something so hard, that he lost consciousness while feeling his blood running in warm trickles down the back of his neck. He woke up still hanging by the tree. Could not tell for how long he had been hanging there but his hands were numb and the blood on his arms had turned into black specks and streaks on his arms. He slowly got to his feet, coughing slightly.

"You will regret ever crossing me" Dakova shouted from behind and kicked him in the back. He gasped and moaned involuntarily. _You could not be farther from the truth_ Akkarin thought to himself. His only regret was not being able to fight back. Being tortured meant nothing. He focused his thoughts and envisioned Yilana. She was waiting for him he saw, standing by a tree, smiling at him. He smiled back at her and reaching her, he gave her a big kiss. The vision made him warm. He hoped he would live to see her again, to be close to her, to talk to her. Just to look her into her beautiful eyes. From somewhere afar he knew that he was being flogged once again but he did not feel it.

Dakova's knife cut the ropes and Akkarin fell to his knees. Davoka pulled him towards the horses and tied his hands to a rope he had arranged to be hanging down from Akkarin's horse which had been tied to Dakova's saddle. Then he mounted and started riding. Akkarin was pulled up and started running after the horses. He fell a few times but managed to get up again. Running after the horses was hard and he did not have much strength left. He head and his back hurt and everything became a blur. An hour later, they stopped. He was so exhausted that he passed out lying on the ground still tied to the horse which turned around and nuzzled his head curiously. He sensed it vaguely but slipped into a trance-like sleep.

Next morning he was awakened by Dakova cutting him. _Why? Couldn't you find a usable wound on me already?_ Akkarin thought wryly. He realized that they were right next to a little river and crawled towards it. When he reached it he drank and drank. He stayed at the brink immersing his head in the cool water. It cleared his mind and he lay there feeling the water running by. Then he lifted his head up again and lay down on his side to wait and rest.

Dakova did not speak but after finishing his breakfast he jumped on his horse and they were off again once again with Akkarin staggering behind as best he could. _He is going to kill me_ Akkarin thought.

After nearly two hours of running he passed out. When he woke up he was lying head down on the ground still tied to the horse. What was left of his clothes was covered in dirt and blood.

Dakova kicked him. "Get up you worthless excuse for a man"

Akkarin got up slowly and with difficulty. He stood swaying – everything was hazy. "Get up on the horse – I don't have time for you passing out all the time", Dakova sneered.

Akkarin looked at the horse. He could not possible find the strength to mount her. His hands were still tied together. He approached the horse and his shaking hands tried to get a hold on the reins in order for him to somehow pull himself up on the horse. The horse turned her head and looked at him with kind brown eyes. After one failed attempt Dakova hit him on the back with his whip cursing irritably. "Get up!" he screamed and with the last of his strength he managed to pull himself up high enough to be able to swing his leg over the back of the animal. He slumped forward so that his forehead touched the neck of the horse. She snorted peacefully. He knew she sensed he was hurt and was grateful. She would be gentle with him. Then they began riding.

The same scenario took place as when they had approached Arvice. Men with fresh horses came by. Some scraps of food were thrown over to Akkarin. At night, he was lying on the ground freezing. The ropes were never removed from his hands. He had developed a cough and did not get much sleep during those long cold nights.

Finally the last man they met took off with both of their horses.

"Kneel!" Dakova beckoned. He did and saw Dakova walk behind him and felt him gripping his hair pulling his head back over leaving his throat exposed. Then he felt the sharp edge of the knife against his throat. A sting told him that he had been cut and he prepared himself for death. "You do not deserve to live" Dakova said in low dangerous voice close to his ear, pressing the knife deeper into Akkarin's skin. Akkarin closed his eyes. "Then kill me" he whispered hoarsely "Kill me now!" Dakova laughed silently. "Ah, but that would be letting you get away with everything too easily" he said. "I am not finished with you just yet, guild slave" The knife slit the skin of his throat open but not deep enough to be fatal. He pushed Akkarin to the ground and Akkarin grasped his throat and held out his hands now shimmering with red blood. He got up and looked at the Ichani. Dakova hated him just as much as he hated Dakova.

The man did not look at him but starting walking and Akkarin followed. Due to Akkarin being too weak to walk fast, it took them five days before they reached the camp. The slaves stilled as they watched them enter the camp. They looked with horror at Akkarin and nobody said a word as he staggered towards the tent where he once again passed out.

Late that night, Yilana came to him. The slaves eyed her warily but nobody interrupted her or called out for their master. After treating his worst injuries, she lay down beside him, gently caressing his hair and whispering words of comfort to him all night long.

Early morning she left and he fell into a deep sound sleep.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter Eleven - Dakova**

For a couple of days Akkarin was left alone. He was sick and the looks on the other slaves' faces told him they did not expect him to live despite Yilana's treatment. He was coughing up blood and a fever was searing through his body. But he would prove them differently. There was always Yilana to hold on to.

He stayed in bed for more than a week. He was grateful that nothing was required of him except from leaving the tent everyday for Dakova to perform his usual routines on him.

Then he heard some noise from the outside. He thought he heard Yilana's voice. It sounded scared and pleading. He got up quickly and went outside.

"Watch this lying cow now, guild slave. I told you I wouldn't have you two spend time together!" Dakova roared. Akkarin saw that Dakova held Yilana in a painful posture. She was bleeding from her nose and lips and she was whimpering. One of her eyes had closed from a heavy blow.

"Stop, Master! Do not take your anger out on her", Akkarin pleaded. "All she did was treating me. You know that that is the truth! If you are offended then punish me instead!"

But Dakova didn't listen. He tied her to the pole, tore up her shirt and went for his whip. "Master, NO!" Akkarin cried out and ran towards Dakova "Take me in stead, Master. Take me!" His words came out as a desperate whisper as he had lost all control of his voice. He threw himself on the ground in front of his Master, and grabbed hold of Dakova's clothes.

Dakova stopped and looked down at him. "Let go of me this instant" he hissed. Akkarin couldn't let go. His hands were as if locked. Dakova kicked him off of him. "Tie him to the pole as well", he commanded. "NO! Let her go, Master. Have mercy on her. Have mercy!" Akkarin implored tears burning in his eyes.

But he was taken to the pole and tied there besides her. He looked at her, feeling her skin against his. "I am so sorry" he whispered. She only cried.

Dakova returned. He lifted the whip and swung it towards them. It hit Yilana and she screamed making Akkarin cry out as well. Akkarin edged himself around her leaving her closest to the pole trying to cover her with his body. This made Dakova furious and he swung the whip over and over. But most of the blows were caught by Akkarin's back. He clenched his teeth and took it. Suddenly the blows stopped and he could hear Dakova swearing. The Ichani went over to them and with a swift cut he unleashed them. He pinned Akkarin to the ground using magic. And then he grapped Yilana and threw her to the ground and took her, right then and there.

"Monster" Akkarin cried. "Monster"!

"It is MASTER, slave. Don't forget it" Dakova growled and got up. Yilana pulled up her clothes and ran crying away from the spectators towards Dakova's tent.

The Ichani's magic disappeared and Akkarin was able to move. He was held down still by Dakova's boot shovelling him deeper into the dirt, however.

"I thought you knew better" Dakova said. "You should have known by now that I mean it when I deal out orders. But there is just something about you, isn't there? Something that is too daft to get it. Is it pride? Let me tell you, guild slave, you don't look too proud now"!

With that he snorted in contempt and went back to his tent. Akkarin remained on the ground. His body was aching all over, not at all healed from the journey back from Arvice yet. He hated Dakova more than ever. Hated him so much his blood felt like boiling. He slowly got up. Broken as his body might be, he was determined to remain outside. He went over to the stove. There he began pulling out wood. He was going to chop it – right now.

Takan approached him. "Stop it Akkarin, you have proven yourself enough for today", the man said. Akkarin lifted his head and gazed at Takan. His look was so full of hate that Takan was taken aback for a moment. Then he nodded slowly and began doing his chores next to Akkarin.

This day would be normal. Nobody had lost any pride. He would not allow anybody to think, even for a second, that he or Yilana had lost any thing on this day.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter Twelve – Love Lost**

The years went on. On and off, Kariko came by. Always his visits included drinking and abuse. There was not much life left in Akkarin anymore. He did not think much any more. He just did as he was told. Numb all over.

Then came the day when Dakova discovered a long time enemy not so far away. They had moved around again. Akkarin no longer knew where they were. The Wasteland was huge and he did not care about where he was or what happened around him. Still, deep within him, he loved Yilana but he never touched her or talked to her again. If he saw her, he turned his head away. He just could not risk it.

Dakova was eager to attack this enemy of his and took them all to a huge cave hidden behind some bushes. He told them to stay put before drawing their power and leaving them. The enemy was an Ichani by the name of Ikanura. Akkarin remembered vaguely that Dakova and Kariko had spoken of this man whom they hated for some obscure reason.

He could hear the distant sounds of battle. Nothing scared Akkarin anymore though. So what if the other Ichani won? It would not change his life in any way.

Several hours later, Dakova returned and stayed with them in the cave for a couple of days. He waited for his slaves to regain power. Then he cut them and left again.

More sounds of battle accompanied by the sound of screaming people followed. The slaves belonging to Ikanura were being killed, Akkarin guessed. The screaming implied that they were blown to pieces in stead of drained. Perhaps Dakova had been unable to reach them and had decided to simply kill them.

Late that evening, their master once again reappeared.

Dakova was exhausted. The battle had weakened him and though he successfully had avoided getting seriously injured and his slaves had remained undiscovered from his foe, the situation was dire. The slaves knew it and on his bidding, they now found themselves assembled in front of him in the cave. There were nineteen slaves all in all each and every one wearing a serious expression, waiting for their master to speak.

Akkarin suddenly sensed the danger and instinctively went to stand next to Yilana. She looked up at him, strangely calm.

"Slaves – I find myself running out of strength. Ikanura was much too close to defeating me today and as you are all aware of, I cannot allow that to happen." Dakova said gravely. "Therefore" he continued "the time has come where you must make the Ultimate Sacrifice to your Master. I will allow you an hour to bid each other farewell".

Akkarin reached out sideways and grabbed Yilana's arm hard. His grip tightened and for a moment he stood there staring at nothing. His chest hurt. It hurt so much. Then he snapped for air and abruptly pulled her towards the opening of the cave. He pushed her into a gap in the rock wall so that they were hidden from the others. There, he took hold of her shoulders and stared at her. "Yilana" he said hoarsely realizing that he was panting. He pulled her close and buried his face in her long soft hair and tried to get control of his breath. His eyes stung from tears trying to well out but he wouldn't allow them. "I can't loose you" he whispered and closed his eyes to make them stop burning. "I will not loose you" He pulled her even closer. "You must leave. What ever it takes, I will make sure that he will not find you." He shuddered and the pain in his chest extended to his throat and he held on to her so tightly that he could barely breathe. Then he loosened his grip and bent down searching for her face. When his mouth found hers, he kissed her. She responded and painful emotions shot through their bodies. For so long they had both yearned for this, dreamed about it, hoped for it. The sensations they experienced now made them both gasp for air. He kissed her again this time feeling tears rolling down his cheeks. He pulled her to the ground and caressed her. He could feel her kisses on his neck and on his mouth and her hands gripping hard around his shoulders. Oh, he needed her, he needed her so much! He rolled her over on her back and continued passionately kissing her. This was too much. He felt as if his desire and love for her was killing him. He had wanted her for so long and she him. Everything went so fast. They clung to each other while making love. It was wonderful and painful at the same time. The longing for each other had been built up for years and being with her now was almost more than he could take. But it had also been sweeter than he had ever imagined.

Afterwards he lay watching her. Then he stilled, remembering the situation they were in. He rolled over and placed a long soft kiss on her lips.

"Yilana, I am stronger than you are – he will search for me before he goes after you. I will let him know in which direction I take off while you run away in the other direction. With Ikanura out there he is not likely to leave this cave any way"

He began pulling his clothes back in order.

"But is has to be now. We will meet up afterwards. I will find you" he urged and she quickly pulled her clothes back in order as well.

Then she sat up. Tears were streaming down her cheeks. Slowly she shook her head and looked at him. "Akkarin, you know I love you. Watching you without being able to touch you or talk to you through all these years has been terrible. The things he has done to you…to us have been tearing me apart. But what is happening now is not for you or me to decide" she whispered. "When a Master asks for the Ultimate Sacrifice, one must obey".

"But if you do, you will die" he said. "I need you to live! Everything is meaningless if you are not alive. How can you speak of obeying him after all the hurt and suffering he has put you through? For years, I have watched him abusing you. I have witnessed him beating you, heard him raping you, even…..watched him" he whispered and looked away. He swallowed hard and closed his eyes. Then he shook his head as if shaking away the memory and looked intently at her. "No more, Yilana. I can take this no more. Oblige me this one time – forget about your traditions of honour and leave. Do it for me!"

"I have never loved anybody as dearly as I love you. I never will" she whispered through tears.

"How could I ever love anybody as much as I love you?" He answered hoarsely. "Now go!"

"No, Akkarin. This life holds no happiness for me. Even if I managed to get away, I would only survive for a few days before I'd fall into the hands of another Ichani who would recognize me for what I was, a run-away slave and kill me for it. And by then you would surely be dead as well".

She closed her eyes and when she opened them, the resolute look she gave him made his entire body shatter. "I prefer an honourable death, Akkarin. I can never again face life without you being by my side. If there is an afterlife, then…. I will meet you there". With this she quickly rose and left him.

"No!" he exclaimed and went after her. Other slaves turned to regard him. Takan got hold of him before he got near her and held him back firmly. He tried to break free but Takan was much too strong. Behind Takan he saw Yilana kneeling in front of Dakova. Takan hissed into his ear "Don't make this any harder on her than it has to be. If you love her, then let her go with honour!"

Akkarin could only watch as Dakova took Yilana's life. She never flinched but just before she slumped to the ground, she turned her head and looked at him, a tear running down her cheek.

"NO!" He cried out. The outburst startled Takan and Akkarin managed to escape the man's hold of him and ran to her. He fell to his knees and lifted her up, gathering her close. Crying as he kissed her one last time, he looked at her face. Took in her beauty one last time. He gently wiped the last tear away from her face and placed her on the ground.

He could barely see for the tears in his eyes but he slowly turned towards Dakova who was eyeing him mockingly. "You….!" Akkarin began. Then he shook his head, shuddered and closed his eyes. He handed out his arm. "Take my life now", he simply said.

The Ichani cut him and as he began to feel life slipping away from him he felt strangely elated. It was over now, this miserable life of his. His power ebbed away and he began to feel drowsy. He embraced death, welcomed it even when he suddenly felt the draining stop.

Akkarin's eyes widened with horror. Dakova would not allow him to die! But he was too weak to speak and fell to the ground next to Yilana's body.

He could only watch as the other slaves were killed – one by one. No one cried out. No one tried to run. They all willingly died at their master's bidding. He watched Yilana's sweet face and wanted to reach out and touch her but all he could do was keep his eyes open as every part of him was paralysed.

Dakova had all but killed him.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter Thirteen - Broken**

As Akkarin lay on the ground unable to move or speak, he watched as Takan was spared his life.

Then he heard Dakova leaving followed by sounds of a new fight taking place not long after.

Takan began pulling the bodies away from his sight. When he bent down to remove Yilana's body Akkarin wanted to speak up but he was unable to utter a single word. Finally Takan had come for him and took his hands in order to pull him aside as well. Feeling the warmth from his hands, the man had made an outburst of surprise and abruptly let go of Akkarin. Then he dropped down besides him. "You are alive? Akkarin! I thought you were dead. Can you hear me? Akkarin!" Takan shook him but he was not able to respond.

Takan carried him closer to the opening of the cave away from the dead. He stayed besides Akkarin rubbing his arms and legs, trying to get him to move.

After a while, Akkarin had been able to flex his fingers a bit. Finally he felt his body once again come alive and lifted his head intending to sit up. Takan had pulled him up in a sitting position and had supported him. "I am sorry, Akkarin" the man had said. Akkarin did not reply. Takan sighed and remained sitting next to him.

"I lost my family to Dakova" Takan said. "I was only a child. Sometimes I forget what my mother looked like…. I did not think that I would want to live again after that…. But life goes on"

Akkarin turned his head and looked at Takan. "For what purpose, Takan? Do you call this Life? I want none of it. I do not care what ever happens to me now. All I want is to kill Dakova".

"You should not speak so" Takan said. "Why? It could get me killed? Akkarin said mockingly. "Dakova will not kill me. He is determined to keep me alive at all costs."

"He needs you as he needs me for strength. You are strong, Akkarin" "Yes, I am strong", Akkarin replied. "And strength is my damnation".

After that they did not speak but waited in silence for hours. When Dakova returned, he only glanced at them. Takan offered him some bread and fruits which he ate before going to sleep.

Akkarin walked over to Yilana's body carrying his blanket. With that he covered her and folded it around her body.

Then he lay down besides her waiting for the sun to rise.

In the morning he and Takan found a suitable burial ground and began digging. They worked silently besides each other. It took them the entire day to dig out a grave large enough for seventeen bodies to be buried in. Afterwards, they carried the bodies to the grave.

Takan gave each and every one of the sacrificed humans a Sachakan blessing whenever a new victim had been placed in the mass grave.

They placed Yilana in the grave lastly. She was the only one who had been covered up in a blanket. That was all Akkarin could do for her as a final gesture of respect and love. Then they covered up the grave and returned to the cave.

"It is done, then"? Dakova asked. Takan nodded. "Yes, Master, thank you for allowing us to bury them".

"But of course, it was the least I could do". Akkarin watched him. Dakova did not show any signs of regret. Slowly Akkarin sat down leaning up against the rock wall.

_You have succeeded, Dakova; you have broken me._


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter Fourteen**

If Akkarin felt broken it was not the impression he gave anybody watching him. In stead he looked hard, cold, indifferent…And tired.

He remained silent as they walked along the narrow road. They were on their way back to the camp they had established only a week earlier, before Dakova had discovered the where-about of Ikanura.

Takan walked besides him ever so often glancing at his direction, strangely attentive of him. Akkarin sensed this change in Takan's behaviour but let it go.

He was determined to end this. Thoughts of vengeance nearly consumed him. He wanted to scream out his rage. To hack Dakova to death. To strangle him, take out his eyes - to make him suffer as much as possible. Then perhaps the burning pain within him would subside and he would be able to see some justice in it all. He immediately discarded the notion of justice. It was far too late to achieve justice. But the death of Dakova would at least justify Akkarin's life giving him a single purpose for living.

Again and again he saw Yilana. He heard her last words repeating themselves over and over. Felt her again and again. But with every memory of their last hour together also came the memory of her death and pain shot through him. If only she had escaped! He realized that he felt angry at her for giving up so easily and instantly regretted the emotion. He knew only too well that she was right about the risks involved with running away. He knew deep within him that she had been far too ruined by Dakova. Even if she had managed to get away, life would never have been easy for her as she had been through too much humiliation. As had he. His life had been destroyed completely.

Again hate towards Dakova came flooding over him and he drew in a long breath and blew it out slowly in order not to loose control of him self entirely.

In the evening, they entered the abandoned camp. Seeing the big slave tent where they had all slept only a few days ago made him stop. Takan stopped as well. They regarded the area, feeling the emptiness. The setting sun cast long shadows through out the camp ground and the silence from the missing slaves was chilling. It was as if the recent dreadful events only just then settled in on them.

Dakova glanced at them and went over to his tent. "Make something to eat, Takan" he ordered and went inside.

Takan did not move but eyed Akkarin nervously.

"Stop it, Takan – I am not going to do anything irrational" Akkarin said irritably. He glanced at Takan and went over to the cooking area. "Do as he instructed" he said with his back to Takan and began preparing the fire.

As he sat in front of the stove, he heard Takan approaching.

"Make something to eat" Takan mumbled "With what I wonder?" Akkarin's mood lightened shortly. He heard Takan go through the remaining ingredients and knew Takan would prepare something delicious. The man just couldn't help himself. Then sorrow swept over him again.

They ate in silence all three of them.

Dakova looked worn out, Akkarin noticed. No doubt the daylong fights had drained him of much power. Still, he was untouchable.

"Come" Dakova gestured for him to approach and made yet a small incision on Akkarin's lover arm. Afterwards as always, the mind-read began. Akkarin looked Dakova straight into his eyes all the while being searched. He did not try to conceal his hate for the man in any way. For the last three years he had acted submissively not wanting to risk Yilana getting hurt from any misbehaving on his side. But now Yilana was gone and there was no reason to hold back anymore.

Dakova smiled maliciously at him but Akkarin kept staring unwavering at him. His felt his eyes darken with hate as he regarded Dakova coolly. He lifted his lips in a hateful smile.

Abruptly Dakova's smile disappeared. "Fool" Dakova said. "She was a slave".

"She was a woman".

"Bah, _woman_! Dakova turned his head and spat. "She had no mind of her own! But I'll give you that much; she was a good ride."

Akkarin felt his smile fade. Then he slowly rose "Would that be all, Master"? He said barely concealing his hate for the man in the tone of his voice.

Dakova took hold of his arm. "I warn you slave. Soon my brother will arrive with new slaves and you don't amuse me as much as you used to do. Don't be sure that I'll keep you for much longer".

"My, my, that would be a shame. I will keep that in mind". Dakova's grip tightened. "Careful, slave" he sneered. Then he let go and Akkarin went back to Takan.

As they were cleaning up after dinner, Takan suddenly spoke. "This game you are playing is far too dangerous – he'll kill you for sure" Akkarin looked levelly at Takan "I have not asked you to join in" Akkarin replied calmly. "What I do or say is my own personal matter. I prefer to keep it so".


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter Fifteen**

As Dakova had predicted, Kariko arrived not long after bringing along twelve new slaves. Akkarin and Takan did not talk to them. After what they had been through neither of them were up for socialising themselves with new people who might be sacrificed same as the others had been.

Akkarin did not provoke Dakova again. Rage and sorrow l tore through him constantly but it all seemed utterly useless. Sometimes he thought of giving up and taking his own life. But it was a coward's way of escape and would make it all much too easy for Dakova to get away with. He decided he needed his revenge.

Dakova only cared about restoring his lost strength and the new slaves seemed anxious to serve him. Kariko had done a good job coercing his slaves to follow their new Master with no questions asked. Not that the former group of slaves had acted any differently. Amazing how people could be trained into total obedience and submission.

He had acted exactly so him self, he admitted. Ending up a slave was never something that he would have considered possible before it actually happened. But fear of losing his life had kept him trapped here for 5 long years. Or even more so, fear of Yilana losing her life. And now she had.

He remembered how, in the beginning, he had thought that he would kill Dakova once opportunity shoved it self. But it never did. How could it be possible that he of all people were meant to spend his last years in captivity? How could it have gone so terribly wrong? Since childhood he had been taught to command and decide. And here he was; a slave.

For years he had pushed away such thoughts from his mind because they hurt far too much. Now they were back and he allowed them to be. He felt ashamed of what he had allowed himself to endure. Ashamed that it had lasted for so long. Now it would have to end. He was sure to die any way but not without a fight. Whatever it took, Dakova would not get away with what he had done to him easily. So far he just did not know _how_ to end this.

After a couple of weeks an Ichani came by with news for Dakova. The man had been in a fight with another Ichani who had managed to escape him. Leaving the battle scene he had come across a couple of slaves belonging to the fleeing Ichani. The man had of course killed the slaves but before doing so he had learned from them that their master was hiding in the old mines. "I am not eager to go into a new fight but I know you hate him, Dakova. You should kill him now when he is weak. His slaves did not know the exact location but he is down there for sure. So what do you say? Will you take him out?"

"I have wanted to kill that bastard for a long time" Dakova replied. "So yes, of course I will". "Good hunting then", the man said and rode off.

In the morning Dakova told all of the slaves to take down the tents and follow him to the abandoned mines. There the male slaves were to help him find the hiding Ichani within the underground tunnels.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter Sixteen**

Next day in the late afternoon, the new camp was set up and shortly after, the male slaves left for the mines as Dakova was anxious to find his enemy while he was still weak.

In total they were nine male slaves all walking silently towards the mines accompanied by Dakova. Akkarin noticed the sweat on the face of the man walking besides him. The one who located Dakova's enemy would likely be killed by the very same if not extremely careful and every single one of the slaves were painfully aware of it.

The mining area was vast. Several black holes in the hills indicated the hollow entrances to the old abandoned mines. A breeze made the scattered spots of grass move in waves and there was an eerie lonesome feeling about area.

The group stopped at Dakova's signal and was divided into four teams of two leaving Akkarin to be the only one to go alone. Then they were sent off into different directions. Akkarin was to go left in the direction of a remote entrance which was barely visible from where they were standing right now.

They all separated each carrying a small lantern. Dakova of course remained outside.

When Akkarin reached the entrance, he looked back – he could not see any of the other slaves any more and Dakova had left as well. He frowned feeling a little uneasy and adrenaline kicked in.

Then he entered the mine. The descent into the underground was steep and very dark. The light from his small lamp only lit up a small area at a time and he had to thread very carefully in order not to stumble and make unnecessary noise. Gradually the air got cooler and it felt as if the walls were closing in on him. There was an unpleasant smell as well. An odour of decay.

200 paces below ground level, the passage divided. He made the decision to go left and to keep on doing so in order not to get lost.

As he went further into the tunnels, his heart began beating faster. All of his senses were alert. He concentrated on walking very slowly listening for the sound of someone's breath or anything at all that could indicate a trap.

It felt freezing and damp at the same time. The adrenaline and the coldness made his skin tighten with goose bumps all over and his hair kept falling in front of his eyes because he had to keep his head low in order not to hit the low ceiling. The tunnel descended down a level once again and the next passage he entered narrowed further down. Now he had to stoop further almost to a crouch and he reached his hand out in order to support him through the difficult descent without falling. The dirt walls were rough and uneven. He felt the floor change from dirt to old wooden planks with huge gaps in between them. He eyed the floor and the gaps nervously but clenched his jaw and continued further down. Suddenly a small breeze blew up from under the floor planks and took out the fire in the lantern. He found himself surrounded by complete blackness. He cursed silently. He would have to give it up and turned around intending to feel his way back to the opening of the mine.

He did not get very far, however before the floor beneath him suddenly collapsed and the useless lantern fell out of his hand as he instinctively spread out his arms trying to get hold of something to prevent him from falling. But there was nothing to hold on to. He fell without time or thought for calling out for help but just as soon as the fall had begun, his speedy descent was stopped and he felt himself caught by a magical barrier. He heard the lantern smashing far below him. Slowly he was lowered and placed neatly on the floor several feet below. The magical barrier sustaining him disappeared and he dropped down to a crouch feeling the splintered glass from the lantern beneath his feet and hands. Everything was still pitch black.

He slowly straightened aware of the fact that he had indeed "found" Dakova's enemy. His pulse quickened and he narrowed his eyes trying to see through the complete darkness.

"Do not move!" a warning voice sounded. "Who is there"? Akkarin asked turning towards the sound of the man speaking. "The one you were looking for, I gather". A globe light appeared and Akkarin had to cover his eyes from the blinding brightness. After a few seconds his eyes adjusted to the light and he realized that it was just a tiny globe light.

Beneath it a man stood regarding him. The man was injured and looked rather weak but Akkarin expected an immediate attack. Instead the man approached him slowly. "You're one of Dakova's slaves"? Akkarin nodded.

The man hesitated but then he walked over to Akkarin and placed a hand on his forehead and read his mind. He sent him an image of Dakova and instantly learned all of Akkarin's hate towards his master.

The man smiled. "Seems you and I share a mutual dislike for your Master" the man said. Akkarin did not reply but regarded the man with a precautious look. "I have a proposal for you" the man continued. "Follow me". Akkarin could not do anything but comply and followed the man who brought him to a small chamber full of food, treasures and wine.

Akkarin looked expectantly at the stranger still wary of the danger he was in.

"As you can see, I am in no condition to attack Dakova right now. If he finds me I'll be an easy kill. And I am rather fond of living.

You on the other hand have nothing to lose and everything to gain. Therefore I offer to teach you greater magic and in exchange you kill Dakova for me".

Akkarin stared at the man in disbelief. He would learn black magic. Thoughts of revenge flooded his mind. He needn't consider the proposal for long before he answered. "I accept your proposal".

"Wise decision" the man answered. He placed his hand on Akkarin's forehead once again and within seconds Akkarin learned how black magic worked.

Akkarin stared at the man, shocked and amazed at how easy it was. For the first time in years, he felt hope and it was a thrilling sensation. Then he sobered. "Dakova is strong - I would not be able to cut him before he would sense what I was doing and stop me. By then he would learn where you were hiding and kill me as well" Akkarin said.

"Yes, there is a risk there. But I have laced some bottles of wine with myk. It is a drug that will make him fall into a trance. I know Dakova likes his alcohol. If you tell him that you did not find me but found my treasures including some very fine vine in stead, I am sure he will want to have a look down here for himself. He will not discover that the wine has been tampered with – I prepared this trap a long time ago in the event of any enemy ever finding this place. "But if he reads my mind…" Akkarin began. "Make sure he doesn't! The man cut him of. "Now, let me show you where I keep the tampered wine".

Shortly after, they were ascending the tunnels. The man turned his head and glanced at Akkarin "There is more you need to know before you leave", he said. "You have no strength and without it you will fail no matter what".

Half an hour later Akkarin was left alone. Thoughts of what he had to do next were running through his mind. He knew he would never be the same again and he was frightened as never before. Now he was standing outside the entrance. It was nearly dark. The stars were beginning to appear on the cloudless sky. In another time, it would have been a beautiful evening.

He felt a sudden cool evening breeze move his hair away from his face and shoulders and closed his eyes enjoying the comforting and refreshing sensation. He drew in a long deep, deep breath. Then he lifted his head and left for the camp in a hasty stride.

When he reached it, Dakova was annoyed with his failure and late arrival. Akkarin related how he had fallen through the tunnel floor and had been knocked unconscious. When he woke up he had not been able to see a thing but on his search for the exit he had managed to find a room containing what seemed to be food and wine. "Oh"? Dakova said. "Show me".

"Now, Master?" Akkarin asked. "Yes, _now_ – take me there".

Akkarin went ahead. He felt tiny drops of sweat protruding on his upper lip and he could barely breathe. When they approached the entrance, he turned and nodded his head to Dakova. "It is down there, Master. You go down until the tunnel divides. Then you turn right and when the tunnel divides again you make another right and then you are there – One of the lamps was lit when I found the room and there was plenty of lamp oil in it so there is still light down there. Your enemy had left or else he would have surely attacked me".

"So where do you think you are going?" Dakova said. "I need you to carry the stuff back for me – and to walk ahead of me just in case".

Akkarin felt his chest tighten with anticipation and fear but he nodded and went inside the tunnel.

Dakova's globe light illuminated the tunnel better than any lamp and they soon came to the room. It was as he had left it full of food, and a big box containing rare and expensive wine. "Ha!" Dakova laughed. "You did well for once, guild slave. Open up a bottle. I feel thirsty already". Akkarin opened a bottle. His hands were shaking but Dakova did not notice it. His master sat on one of the boxes and gulped down the wine. "Here" a bag was tossed over to Akkarin "Begin collecting the wine. We'll get back here tomorrow for the rest of it but tonight I'll celebrate". He drank some more wine as Akkarin carefully began putting the bottles down into the sack. He heard Dakova mumble something about the wine being good. His voice already sounded slurred. It took a surprisingly short amount of time before Dakova slowly glided down from the box and landed on the floor. Akkarin stopped what he was doing and turned slowly to regard him. Dakova appeared to be unconscious. Slowly his master's globe light winked out.

Akkarin went over to Dakova and knelt down in order to remove the dagger from the man's belt. A trickle of sweat ran down his forehead as he ever so carefully pulled out the knife all the while watching Dakova's face intently. The man never stirred.

When Akkarin left the tunnels, he was carrying the sack containing bottles of wine as well as the deadly dagger.


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter Seventeen**

Entering the camp, Akkarin called out for the slaves to gather around him.

"Our Master is still in the tunnels going through the treasures he has found down there. The enemy has escaped but our Master is so happy with the way this day turned out after all that he sent me back here to tell you that he wants to share his joy with you. He let me know that though you have only been in his service for a short amount of time, he has never before had a group of slaves behaving and serving as well you have done. Therefore he told me to return to you with these – as a token of his appreciation" He pulled up the bottles of wine from the sack. Surprised murmurs rose from the crowd. "Now let us all celebrate – our Master will join us later".

Akkarin uncorked the bottles and looked at the men and women assembled around him. They all looked amazed and happy. They turned to regard one another and then one of them spontaneously cheered and soon after they were all cheering and whistling. "So what are we waiting for, then? Go get some mugs!" Akkarin shouted doing his best to sound and look just as cheerful as the others.

They ran off and soon after, they gathered around him with mugs in their hands. One of them handed him a mug as well.

"Let's make a toast for our Master – the Greatest of them all" Akkarin said solemnly and he began pouring up the wine into the mugs. All but one handed out their mugs. Takan stood by looking at Akkarin with a frown. Akkarin met Takan's eyes and looked at him. Takan could not be easily fooled. Finally, Takan handed out his mug as well.

Akkarin indicated to Takan to come and stand beside him which he did. Then he lifted up his mug to the group of slaves and said "To our Master!"

They all repeated the words and drank the wine. Takan lifted up the mug to his lips as well but when he noticed that Akkarin did not drink from his mug, he did not either.

"Akkarin" Takan whispered without turning his head towards Akkarin "I know Dakova well enough to know that he would never thank us let alone give us anything like this. What have you done?" Akkarin turned to regard Takan and answered in a low voice. "So far, I have done nothing". He narrowed his eyes. "But I intend to do what I have wanted to do since the first day I met Dakova". Takan's eyes widened. "But how?"

Akkarin sighed. "Takan, it would be easier for me if you drank your wine as well. What I must do now is something I wish to do alone – there is no poison in the wine, only a drug that will make you fall asleep". "No!" Takan hissed. "What ever it is you intend to do I want to be here. And help you, if necessary". Akkarin regarded Takan closely but before he could think up an answer, a cry of alarm sounded.

"What is happening", one of the female slaves cried out. Four of the slaves had already passed out. More cries of alarm sounded as two more slunk to the ground. "Poison. He has poisoned us"!

Akkarin grabbed Takan's arm hard. "Sorry, my friend, I cannot allow you to witness this. Drink the wine, _now_!" Takan eyes were red with disappointment and sorrow. He shook his head in disbelief and shock. Then he swallowed and slowly lifted up the mug and emptied the content still staring at Akkarin.

Akkarin let go of Takan and picked up the sack and moved backwards watching as the last of the slaves lost consciousness under low mutters of frightened protests. He stared at Takan who quietly sat down and turned his head giving Akkarin one last glance of disproval. Then Takan lay down and closed his eyes.

It had taken perhaps only a few minutes but it had felt like an excruciatingly long time. Now only the sound of people sleeping remained.

The Ichani had explained to him that even though he now understood the concept of greater magic, he had to perform it for real before approaching Dakova. Besides he would need strength in the unlikely event of Dakova resisting the attack.

He reached into the sack and pulled out the dagger. The blade glistened in the dull light from the fire. It was so incredibly sharp. For five years he had been a slave. Each day this blade had cut through the skin of his arms. He pulled up his sleeve and looked at his left arm which was crisscrossed with hundreds and hundreds of small white scars. The fresher of them still looked pink and the ones from the last week were still tiny wounds not yet healed. For the rest of his life, he would be reminded of his captivity and what he had been through whenever he had to remove his clothes. Marked as a slave for ever.

Again he regarded the blade. It had killed Yilana as well. He closed his eyes as pain once more ran through his body. Then he pushed the thought away. He had to concentrate now. Not dwell in the past.

The cut only hurt afterwards due to sweat from Dakova's hand entering the wound. The cut itself was almost never painful. He looked at the edge of the dagger. Then he lowered the knife to his arm and pressed the blade against the skin. It went through it as if it had been made out of butter. Blood instantly welled up. Just a thin line of crimson red, but more than enough for black magic to be practised. His hand shook as he lifted up the knife from his arm. There, this was all he would have to do to get access to the power hidden within his fellow slaves.

He moved towards them. Kneeling beside a man, he lifted up the man's arm and pressed the knife towards the skin exactly as he had done to his own arm. Then he placed his hand over the wound curling his fingers around the man's arm. He closed his eyes and saw and felt the power within the man now reachable through the gap. Doing so, he began draining the man of his power. Energy rushed into him and his eyes flew open shocked from the sensation of instantly becoming stronger. It was exhilarating. Suddenly the energy flow stopped and he looked down at man. He was dead. He had just killed a man. He abruptly let go of the arm staring at the lifeless man. He was a murderer! He staggered backwards, wanting to throw up. But then he regained control of his breath and went back. There was no turning back now. One by one, he killed the slaves. Each time he dried off the blood on his trousers but the sticky feeling of blood remained on his palm.

Finally, all were dead except from Takan. Akkarin knelt in front of this slave who had somehow always been there for him. Not a close friend. But then again, perhaps, Takan really was the closest friend he had ever had. He placed a hand on Takan's shoulder. He was sound asleep. Quietly Akkarin told him goodbye "I am sorry Takan. I did not mean to betray you or disappoint you. But what I have done tonight and what I must do now will almost certainly result in my death. This way, you will have a chance of surviving. I hope you will understand this when you wake up".

He straightened and turned to return to the mines.

Standing outside the mine in the black of the night, he suddenly realized that he was now able to use magic again. He created a globe light. There! He stared at the light and the beauty of it, grateful to have magic again even if it might all end in a few minutes.

Then he went into the tunnels.

Dakova lay in the same position.

Akkarin wanted to torment the man, but he knew very well that he did not have the time. Decisively he took Dakova's hand, made the cut and drained the life out of the man.

Dakova woke up and Akkarin watched with wry pleasure as horror showed in Dakova's eyes. Akkarin almost felt like laughing out loud as the immense amount of power rushed from Dakova's body into his own. The sensation was overwhelming. He was stronger than ever before! Stronger than any body he had ever known! For a moment, he felt like an animal fulfilling an insane craving for power beyond a normal human need. It was a sickening realisation.

Finally, Dakova died. Disgusted, Akkarin threw his body to the ground. Dakova's eyes were still open. His grimace was grim and horrified. Akkarin stared at man. Finally, he had done it. Killed the man who had mistreated him and everything he had loved for years. Killed the bastard that had taken away the best years and of his life and his only love. But he felt no joy.

He backed away and leaned up against the wall. Once again, he felt his breath come out of control. He closed his eyes and drew in long deep breaths. The knife fell out of his hand and hit the floor with a clang. Then he spun about and bolted out of the tunnels. Outside, he glanced around. Which way was south east? Kyralia. He had to get back to Kyralia and the Guild! With only this on his mind, he started running.


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter Eighteen**

All night long he moved away from the camp heading towards the Kyralian borderline. Of course he was in no shape to be able to run for a long period of time but he did not want to waste any of his new power by healing himself and he did not allow himself to stop.

He knew it would only be a matter of days, a week perhaps, before Kariko would discover that something was wrong and come looking for his brother.

By then Akkarin hoped to be far enough away to be able to escape the Ichani. If he were found, his death would be inevitable.

He desperately wanted to reach the Guild and put aside all that had happened during his years in Sachaka. He never wanted to think of or speak of his life in this horrid place again. Except for Yilana. She, he would never forget and he would keep her in his heart forever.

Remembering his initial escape so long ago, he felt afraid to consider once again the possibility of freedom. Of a life outside Sachaka. Could it be obtainable?

He knew only too well that he was unlikely to reach the border before Kariko caught up with him. He had experienced nothing but failure throughout the last five years. Why should his luck change now?

He still felt like a slave much too intimidated to believe that he was truly entitled to a life in freedom. Why should he succeed when every body else had not? Why did he deserve a second chance? He was not better than any of the other men and women. Truly, he did not deserve to live any more than they did.

He stopped. He did not deserve to live. What had he done? He had killed twelve innocent people in order to save his own petty life. He had sacrificed the lives of other human beings in order for him self to live. He had not given them any chance at all of survival.

How would he ever be able to live with him self? Each time he would look into a mirror, he would only see the face of a killer.

Stop this, he abruptly thought. If he had not done it, they would have died anyway. And Dakova would have kept on killing and hurting more innocent people on his way. True, he did not deserve to live but surely Dakova did not deserve to either. He cleared his mind. What was done was done. Now he had to think of him self for the first time in years. He continued walking and after a little while, he started running again.

Reaching a chain of cliffs, he began climbing them. It was difficult but his mind was set. In the early morning, he rested inside a narrow gap in the rock wall. He did not allow him self to sleep. He just needed a break and decided to change his mind on not using magic and healed his weary body just a little.

Standing up afterwards, he realised that he had forgotten to bring any food. Water as well. A great man indeed not being able to think straight but just bolting off like that, he thought bitterly. Standing so, his eyes caught a movement in the horizon. He quickly went back inside the gap in the rock wall and peered out side. A man far away was running towards his direction. No! Not so soon. He could not bear the thought of being found so quickly. But then he narrowed his eyes. The shape of the man looked familiar. Takan!

Takan had followed him! But he did not want Takan's companionship. He was prepared to die for what he had done but with Takan here with him, he would also be responsible for Takan's death. And he could not face that.

Realising that hiding would not stop Takan from following him he rose and stood on the ledge. Takan looked up and stopped when he discovered Akkarin. Then he started running even faster. Takan was in a far better shape than Akkarin. Maybe it was his body built that enabled him to remain strong despite starvation. Akkarin's body frame was tall and thin where as Takan was short and muscular. Still it was remarkable that Takan had been able to reach him this fast.

When Takan finally caught up with him on the ledge, the former slave dropped to his knees. "Master! I found you! I brought food and water... and this!" He placed Dakova's dagger on his wrists and was now lifting it towards Akkarin keeping his head bowed. The sight made Akkarin freeze. "What are you doing, Takan! Stop it immediately. I am _not_ your master and I never want to be".

Takan looked confused for a moment. "But you are my Master. You killed Dakova and spared me my life. Therefore I now belong to you. You know this it how it works. I am honoured to belong to you, Master!"

"Enough!" Akkarin exclaimed. He rolled his eyes. "Get up and get that dagger out of my sight – I don't ever want to look at it again"

Takan rose and placed the dagger in the belt, he had removed from Dakova's body. "As you wish Master but the knife stays with me. You never know when it might come in handy again" Then he picked up the sack he had been carrying and pulled out a flask of water and some bread. "Are you hungry, Master?"

Akkarin grunted something in reply but took the water and tore off a chunk of the bread. "Thank you" he mumbled.


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter Nineteen**

Looking closely at Takan, Akkarin noticed his worn out expression. The man had been running most of the night in the hope of having correctly guessed in which direction Akkarin had fled. The fact that he had succeeded in doing so was disturbing. Kariko would likely come to the same obvious conclusion. Still, Takan needed rest and when it came to his own designated destination, he did not want to go anywhere but the Guild, regardless of the risks.

Akkarin finished his meal and placed a hand on Takan's arm. "Let me Heal you" he offered. Takan looked at him questioningly. "Heal me, Master"? "Yes, I can supply you with a little boost of energy. Afterwards, you will not feel this exhausted. I do not want to spend time sleeping unless absolutely necessary and neither should you". As he spoke he let his Healing energy flow into Takan's body and as Takan sensed what was happening to him he looked surprised and wide eyed at Akkarin. "Do not look at me that way, Takan. It is a basic trick taught to young novices during their first year at the Guild", Akkarin said dryly.

Then he rose and regarded Takan silently. Takan was quietly returning the leftovers from the meal to the sack still full of supplies. Healing had chased away his tiredness and he looked alert and unworried. He was a good man and had been a fine and loyal friend as it turned out. Akkarin would miss the company but as Takan had said himself; Life goes on. He had to let Takan know his intentions.

"Takan, I need to return to the Guild. It has been on my mind since the beginning and I belong there. You know what Kariko will do to me if he finds me. Finding you here with me will only ensure your certain death as well and I do not wish such responsibility. I want you to leave the Wasteland and seek shelter in Arvice. With your skills as a cook it would only be a matter of time before someone would hire you. Bear in mind that I am not an Ichani Master. I have been brought up in Kyralia living an entirely different life and now I have the possibility of once again becoming a Guild Magician and that is what I want.

You on the other hand have the possibility of an entirely new beginning as a free man. I would not want you to waste your Freedom on me".

Takan frowned and turned his head away. He was looking at the bleak landscape towards the direction he had come from. After a few minutes, he lifted his head and looked at Akkarin.

"I woke up and saw what you had done. Then I realized why you had spared me, Master. And I felt so grateful, I… His voice cracked and he looked away. He cleared his throat and returned his intent stare at Akkarin. "Your words of freedom sound wonderful, Master. But what would I do with such freedom here in Sachaka?" Akkarin did not reply.

"Tell me, Master what is a free man truly? Is it a man who can go where ever he wants and do whatever he wants?"

Akkarin slowly nodded.

"If that is what it means, then what I want is to serve you, Master. It is my choice as a free man. Will you let me serve you?"

Akkarin eyes flickered. This was not what he had expected. Arvice would be the ideal place for Takan. Or so he hoped – he could not be certain. The Servant Mistress Pikara had told him that people in the city generally tended to treat their servants better than the Ichani. Would Takan be a free man or would he be taken for property once he had reached Arvice?

He knew that it would take Takan several weeks to reach the Capital of Sachaka and during the journey he would risk getting caught by Kariko or another Ichani. He would likely be handed over to Kariko when they found out to whom he had belonged and Kariko would surely torture him once he had read his mind and learned what Takan had originally intended to do. Akkarin could not face sending the man away when so much depended on good luck. No matter what, it was too late now. Takan's decision to come running after him had ruined his plan for him. He had wanted Takan to stay at the camp and wait for Kariko to arrive. Surely Kariko would not punish him for staying put. But now it was an entirely different story. Takan had eloped and abandoned his Master's body and belongings. So there was nothing he could do now but to accept Takan's company. As for the matter of Takan's wish to serve him and his insisting of calling him Master, those were matters that would have to be dealt with later.

"Very well Takan. You may serve me for now. Come, let us leave" He said and handed out his hand to Takan in order to help him to his feet.

But Takan jumped up, his face all bright with happiness. "Thank you, Master! Thank you so much", he said. His gratitude made Akkarin feel embarrassed so he quickly turned away and started climbing the rocks without any further comments. He could hear Takan following him eagerly and after a while it was comforting to be together with someone. Someone he could depend on,

After several days without sleep, Akkarin decided that he could no longer go on without it. So far no one had followed them. He could see the relief on Takan's face when he instructed him to lie down and get some sleep for a couple of hours. After that, they took turns sleeping.

Often he found himself drenched in sweat and shaking all over. His sleep had been interrupted by nightmares about _her. _Hemissed her so and now it seemed as if his cursed mind seemed determined to torment him by showing her in pain every time he tried to get some rest.

Still, he needed the sleep. It was not healthy or physically possible to keep on Healing the fatigue away. It seemed as if the body craved _real_ sleep.

Takan did not mention anything whenever he woke up with a start or a shout and for that Akkarin was grateful_. It will go away eventually_, he thought to himself. _Just not now because I cannot stop thinking about her…_He closed his eyes and covered his face with his hands._ I do not think I ever will. She could have been here with me now, had this all taken place only a month earlier! What cruel destiny is this? Why did you have to die, Yilana? _

If he did not dream about her he had other much too vivid nightmares and though he felt almost relieved when he woke up from dreams not involving her, his constant nightmares meant that he was never ever truly rested.

Weeks passed by. They did not seem to get anywhere as they continued to reach more low mountain ranges and had to climb them. But the mountains, difficult as they might be, meant that they were getting closer to the border.

He saved his energy making sure only to use a minimum amount of power. Such as catching and killing the odd little animals they encountered on their way and of which their meals primarily consisted. Secretly, he was mildly amused by Takan's open wonder when he let the meat roast in a floating ball of heat. For all the magic, the Ichanis held, none of them had ever used it for something as common as preparing food. But mostly he let Takan prepare the food. How the man could make a skinny little bird and some obscure plants taste so good, he did not know. Of course being hungry made every meal taste delicious but still.

As always, Takan was easy to be with. By now, Akkarin had almost gotten used to being called Master although it still seemed ridiculous to him considering the fact that only weeks ago they had been slaves working closely together for years. However he knew that it would be difficult to get Takan to stop using the expression. Takan had after all only been a little boy, when his family had been killed and he had been turned into a slave. In Takan's mind, someone who wielded magic and was capable of killing Masters was himself a Master.

So he would be Master but to be sure a kinder one at that!

One morning, they began climbing yet another low mountain. It took most of the day to reach the top but they were used to climbing by now and only concentrated on heading towards the same direction as best they could. It was not easy as the mountains occasionally forced them to move away from Kyralia in stead of towards it. And they only had the sun to guide them. But little by little they came closer.

Reaching the top of the mountain in the late afternoon, his heart nearly stopped. Below him, hilly plains extended towards the horizon. In the distance, a forest appeared and a slim trail of smoke could be seen coming up from a house hidden somewhere within the forest. They had been climbing the Steelbelt Ranges and made it back to Kyralia!

He dropped to his knees. Free! Finally, he was free! Waves of emotions ran through him and he wanted to reach out towards the hills and touch the magnificent view. He drew in a long deep breath. Kyralian air! He drew in yet another and closed his eyes only to open them again to once again behold and admire the overwhelming sight of his home land.

Then he sensed that Takan was standing behind him and rose. He glanced at him not turning away from the view. For the first time in years, a smile lingered on his lips.

"This is it, Takan. Welcome to Kyralia".


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter Twenty**

They descended the mountain in the setting sun light. Every step down made Akkarin's heart feel a little lighter. He was free! He was back in Kyralia! He had done it. He had actually done it. Killed Dakova and escaped. From time to time he felt overwhelmed with the thrill of success and happiness and then sorrow and pain came rolling over him again. His emotions were so strong and out of control. But it was wonderful to be able _feel_ again. He had not allowed himself the luxury of emotions in years. Mostly he was just thankful at being here in Kyralia.

When they finally found themselves down on the low hilly terrain, darkness had settled but the moon was near full and the sky was clear. The smoke trailing up could still be seen in the distance as a thin wavering silvery line. They were entering a populated area and Akkarin considered whether to approach the people in the cottage or not but decided against it. Meeting ordinary people so soon after having been enslaved for so long seemed daunting and he realized he simply was not ready to face anybody yet. He had to feel more composed in all ways.

Besides, the forest would supply their needs for food and shelter plenty. He began walking towards the trees that were now just a black shadow against the slightly lighter grey colour of the plains in the moonlit landscape. Takan followed closely by. Glancing sideways at Takan he noticed that the man looked nervous. "Do not fear the Kyralians, Takan" he said in a calm voice. "I promise you that you will not meet any one stronger than I am right now. Besides, Kyralians do not enslave people.

Until we reach Imardin I want us to avoid people as much as possible though. I do not want draw any unnecessary attention to us right now"

Takan's frown eased a little. "So you will let me be your servant still, even though we are now in your Home land, Master?"

"Of course I will!

He glanced sideways at Takan "Although naturally you would have to learn how to cook a decent Kyralian meal if you wish to remain in my services – wonder if you would be able to do that though – the courses are rather sophisticated"

Takan snorted in reply and Akkarin smiled to himself. Good thing the man still had a sense of humour.

Still it seemed as if it was all a dream. Fear of Kariko following them lurked in the back of his mind but he let it go. Sachakans had not intervened in Kyralia since the war and there had been no rumours of a Sachakan invasion during his captivity after his visit to the Royal Palace so it seemed almost certain that the Guild was unharmed. That everything was as it had always been. He hoped his assumptions were true as he desperately wanted to pick up his life from where he had left it.

Once back at the Guild he would be able to relax and forget. Forget more than anything.

What to tell them? Of course they would him ask about his journey and his studies. Should he tell them the truth?

He sighed and rubbed his forehead smoothing out the frown that was beginning to hurt his brow.

He should, but he could not face it. He did not know how to begin and he did not want to go through all the hurt the memories would bring along. Saying it all out loud would make it all the more tangible and impossible to ignore. He did not want to be looked at as a former slave as a victim of any sort. If he could, he wanted to erase the memories of his past. Nobody was to learn anything about his years in Sachaka if he could help it.

Besides he had gained knowledge of and even killed with black magic.

It would mean his immediate expulsion from the Guild or perhaps even his death sentence. Revealing his knowledge of black magic therefore was not an option. Of course they might not be as strict if they knew the whole truth? But how would he ever be able to tell his story even if he wanted to? He just could not do it, not even to Lorlen. Perhaps one day, he would be able to write down his story, as a warning. But for now all he wanted was to become the old Akkarin, back again from a long journey. Wiser but apart from that the same as he had ever been.

When asked, he would only tell them that he had lived alone with his servant whom he had met during his travels. He would tell them that he had resolved to quiet meditation and a life without any form of luxury or excesses. That should not be hard to prove considering the state he was in. In fact, he would tell them as little as possible.

"Takan, once we reach the Guild, you must refrain from calling me Master – in stead you may call me Lord Akkarin" Takan looked at him. "Why, Master?"

"There are more reasons. We do not have slaves or Masters in Kyralia. The Guild does not know that such concepts exist and it does not need to know. And….. I have decided that our past as a whole must remain a secret too".

"But why, Master?" Takan asked yet again.

Akkarin sighed and stopped to regard Takan "Because I cannot bear it" he replied hoarsely. The gaze he gave Takan was so sincere and direct and vulnerable at the same time it made Takan turn his head away. Akkarin closed his eyes and cursed himself for being so emotional. Damn it. But if he could not be honest with Takan, then who could he be honest with?

Akkarin cleared his throat and managed to continue in his usual calm voice "But there is more. The knowledge of Greater Magic or Black Magic as the Kyralians have named it is forbidden by Guild Law. The penalty for using it and killing with it is death. I will never again resume to using it and there is no need for the Guild to know I ever have.

If you do not think you will be able to keep these secrets then you must tell me now. I promise you that I will find you a safe home in one of the other Allied Countries"

"No, Master, I will do as you say".

Akkarin did not reply but nodded slowly.

He was grateful for Takan's company but he did not enjoy the fact that Takan's only concern seemed to be to please him. Takan should not be thinking so but having been a slave most of his life, he seemed incapable of selfish thoughts. Akkarin would do what ever he could to change Takan's view on life but he knew that it had to be done slowly. Takan would probably never be able to fully appreciate what freedom truly meant.

They continued walking. "Master, do you know for certain that there are no slaves in Kyralia?" "Yes, I am sure, Takan". "So I will never become a slave again?"

Akkarin stopped and looked at Takan.

"I promise you that you will never again lose your freedom, Takan", he said with a hot voice caused by the strong emotions and honest sincerity he placed in that single promise. "I will see to that"

Takan regarded Akkarin silently. Then he nodded and smiled. "I trust you will, Master".


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter Twenty-one**

They had been walking through the forest for a couple of days. So far, they had managed to avoid any encounters with people living and working there and every day seemed a bit brighter than the day before.

When they arrived at a small forest lake they stopped to clean themselves and their clothes as well.

He was standing in the water waist high soaking and rinsing his ragged clothes. His trousers were still dark on the thigh from the blood he had smeared off when he had killed the slaves.

"Couldn't you clean them by using magic?" Takan suggested. "Hmm, I suppose I could but it would take just as long as it does doing it by hands", Akkarin replied absentmindedly and continued rubbing the fabric in his hands keeping it under the water while doing so. Finally it just looked dirty which was to be preferred over the suspicious appearance of a dark brown spot of smeared blood.

He walked ashore and placed his clothes on a rock and went back to immerse himself in the water. He rubbed his scalp vigorously and rinsed his hair. Washing made him realize how filthy he was. He ran his fingers through his hair. He did not have any lice – he hoped! The slaves regularly checked one another so he shouldn't have. Takan's hair was cut very short. Most of the male slaves preferred to keep it so, but Akkarin had kept his hair long much to the women's amusement. They had not minded going through his hair every so often though and cutting it was therefore never necessary.

As he continued washing, he thought to himself that of course they still had a long way to go yet and they would become filthy again But he liked at least feeling clean and during his captivity he had taken care to keep himself as clean as possible. He knew how infections thrived if not and he had managed to avoid serious infections by using just water.

Takan stayed at the brink splashing water on his body and face cleaning him self as best he could. He could not swim as there was little opportunity for anybody living in the Wasteland to ever learn how to.

Akkarin dived down. Then he surfaced and swam back to the shore and got out of the water and began drying their clothes – this time using magic to speed up the process. He was anxious to get moving but once dressed, he sat down on the brink looking out at the quiet blue water. The trees were mirrored in the still surface. It was a very tranquilizing view to watch and one could actually think at this place. Relax and think. He turned his head and looked at Takan before returning his gaze back towards the lake.

"Takan, you know how Dakova used to read our minds. I would not mind knowing how to do just that myself.

I think, I have figured out how it is done but I am not sure of it. I was wondering if you would let me practise on you. Naturally, I would not make you reveal anything you would not want to reveal".

"I don't mind, Master – you are entitled to read my mind any time"

"No, I am not entitled to anything, Takan. I don't own you, remember? You are here with me because you choose to be. So if you rather I didn't, I won't".

"Well I don't mind, Master, truly I don't"

"Alright" Akkarin stood up and went over to Takan.

"Now, as you know I don't exactly know how to do this so it may take a little while". He placed his hands on Takan's temples and closed his eyes. He could definitely sense Takan's mind but how to enter it? He began searching for an entrance but he kept bumping into a barrier.

Dakova had somehow entered his mind without him being able to feel it or prevent it. Akkarin concentrated hard and tried another approach – still without any luck.

"I don't feel a thing, Master apart from the fact that you are hurting my temples" Takan said.

"Ah, sorry about that" Akkarin said and loosened his grip on Takan's head. He opened his eyes and smiled. "I forgot. It's just that it is a little more difficult than I had thought it would be. I will give it another try, if you don't mind?". "No, go ahead, Master".

He tried yet again this time not as much trying to enter Takan's mind but rather just slipping inside it. It was like brushing Takan's mind but a bit more. And suddenly he knew what to do or rather what not to do and was inside!

"_If this is going to take much longer, I'll develop a cramp in my upper back_", he heard Takan think. "_Will you now_? He sent.

"_Akkarin, so you did it_?" Takan seemed a bit startled and forgot the "Master" in his thoughts. Akkarin smiled.

"_I will let you off the hook but I need to try to capture one of your memories. Think about when we reached Kyralia_" he sent. And the images and the thoughts were there instantly. He caught the image of himself standing on top of the mountain. "_This is it, Takan. Welcome to Kyralia_" he heard himself say. It was accompanied by a sense of exited anticipation. Takan's.

"_A bit melodramatic now that I hear it for myself_" he sent to Takan and sensed Takan's amusement. "_Now I will try to capture one of your other memories_" he sent. And he found that he was able to steer Takan's mind to wherever he wanted. He didn't take him anywhere personal. He just made Takan relive the day before. No harm in that but it proved that he had control of the technique. Satisfied he opened his eyes and let go of Takan.

"I got it now, Takan. In the Guild you cannot enter another Magician's mind without his or hers permission so I will not be using this knowledge unless absolutely necessary" He explained and added "But it is a handy skill if used wisely.

Again, as I have told you, I wish to reveal as little as possible about myself and I do not wish to have to reply to all sorts of curious questions".

He frowned worried once again what exactly to do about the inevitable questions his arrival would arise.

"We should get moving. I think we will be in Imardin within a couple of weeks now. Perhaps less" he said and Takan nodded and they began walking again.


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter Twenty-two**

After half a day of walking, the trees began to stand farther apart and finally they were out of the forest. They had been following an old road for the last couple of miles and it continued further down the terrain which had turned into fields.

"Soon we will meet people" Akkarin told Takan. "Who knows, we may even be given a little something to eat if we are lucky". In the distance a small village appeared. His heart skipped at beat. He was so close now.

He was tired and hungry and even though he wanted to run all the way back to the Guild, he did not have the strength.

They entered the village in the early evening. The villagers had gone inside for their evening meals but two boys and a girl were running around the small village square playing with a little ball. When they saw the two strangers they immediately stopped their game. "Who are you"? The oldest boy asked.

"My name is Akkarin and this is Takan. We have been travelling for a very long time and we are very tired. We were hoping that tonight we would be able to sleep indoors for a change. Not inside a house of course, a barn would do just fine".

The children looked at one another. "I'll go ask my dad" the little girl said out loud and ran off in the direction of a small house. Akkarin and Takan did not move but Akkarin's heart was beating heavily in his chest. These were the first Kyralians he had seen in years and just looking at them was fantastic. They looked so well fed and healthy. They did not know what was happening in their neighbour country and he hoped they never would. He wanted to walk over and pick them up and hug them but suddenly he realized that his direct stare was uncomfortable for the boys and looked down into the ground, slightly embarrassed.

_I have got to control my self and not get carried away with emotions. I have been doing so for years after all, so there is no reason why it should be so hard for me now. If I do not pull myself together, I will not be able to keep my past a secret._

"Who are you"? A man's voice interrupted his thoughts and he looked up and composed himself.

"Good evening, sir. My name is Akkarin and this is Takan. We mean you no harm. All we are hoping for is a place to sleep for the night. I am afraid we cannot offer you any thing in return but we would be very grateful if you would let us. A barn or a shed would suffice. And if you could kindly spare some food as well, we'd..."

"Where do you come from"? The man cut him off. "Suffice!"

"I apologize. It has been a while since we have seen anybody. I'm sorry. We got lost in the forest and we have been walking for a very, very long time. Now, we are on our way back towards Imardin".

"Yes, from the looks of you two that is where you belong. City Beggars! You will not get very far begging out here. We prefer an honest day of work to make a living!" The man snapped and eyed them up and down.

For a while he just stood there regarding them but Akkarin kept returning his stare hoping that the man would somehow see them for what they were; just two poor and lost men that would not cause him or his village any harm. Then the farmer seemed to relax and continued "But it is late and as long as you will be gone in the morning, you can stay at my barn for the night. No food though!"

"Thank you, sir", Akkarin replied. He was surprised that the man would let them stay but obviously he was not an unkind man. Just a nervous father, probably.

The farmer took them to his barn and showed them a spot in a corner. There was plenty of hay to make a bed out of and the barn was pleasantly warm compared to what they had been used to.

They began stacking the hay to prepare their bed, when the barn door suddenly opened. It was the little girl. She looked to be about 8 years old. She stood watching them with big curious and slightly frightened eyes.

"Hello again" Akkarin said. "What is your name, little girl?"

She looked at him with those big eyes. Then she pulled herself together. "Mirra".

"Mirra – tell your father that we are very pleased that he would let us stay here".

She nodded and bit her lit. "My Mom told me to give you these" she whispered and placed two blankets on the floor. "And this as well" she said and turned around to pick up a basket containing food and milk.

The girl pushed forward the basket and stood silently watching them in the doorway. Akkarin went quietly over and picked up the blankets and the basket.

"This is very kind of your mother. Please let her know that we are very grateful" He said.

"It's because she saw you from the window. And she thinks you looked so sad and no one should have to be so sad, she said" The little girl continued.

"Tell her that we are happy now" Akkarin said. "Is that not so, Takan?" "Yes" Takan said "We are very happy, thank you".

The girl looked pleased and gave them a shy little smile. "Good night then" She said. "Good night, Mirra" Akkarin replied and smiled at the girl who closed the door and left. They could hear the patter of her feet running back to her house.

"I told you we might be lucky" Akkarin said and carried the food and blankets over to their little corner. He took out the bread and the cold leftovers from the basket and handed Takan half of it. It was not much but it was real food and he was going to enjoy it as if it were a first class meal.


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter Twenty-three**

In the early morning, they left the village as promised. The town folks were still sound at sleep although Akkarin sensed someone peeking out from the window of their host's house. _Mirra_, Akkarin thought to himself and smiled.

'_Her family's hospitality will be rewarded once I am back at the Guild.' _

They continued their journey towards Imardin in a slow but steady pace. Akkarin knew he could call out mentally for his old friend Lorlen and have a carriage come fetch them but travelling slowly this way suited him better. As soon as he once again wore his robes and were back at the Guild, pretending would be much easier than out here. As he got closer to Imardin however, he became more withdrawn. Takan too did not speak much and like Akkarin he wore a constant frown. It wasn't that Akkarin was not eager to get back, though. Getting back was all that mattered. But he was constantly going through his story testing it for flaws and at the same time doing his best not to think back too much on Sachaka and the life he had left behind. He had to be convincing when he stood in front of his old acquaintances and friends. Enough to make them not ask questions that he did not want asked.

As they neared the capital they passed through several villages. They rarely engaged in conversations as most villagers ignored them taking them for beggars or vagabonds. But some were kind and offered them food or even allowed them to sleep inside their houses or barns. Every now and then they caught a ride on a farmer's carriage for a little while. The journey, slow as it might be, went much faster than he had predicted and only nine days after leaving the first village, the city of Imardin appeared in the distance.

The view made his heart rate go up. Now he was finally going to retrieve what he had lost.

"There she is, Takan. Imardin. From now on you must call me "Lord Akkarin" or simply "my Lord". We might as well practice before we get there". He turned towards Takan expectantly.

"Yes, my Lord" Takan nodded "Shall we continue, my Lord?" Akkarin smiled. "Stopping now would be rather pointless, wouldn't it?"

"Yes, my Lord". Takan smiled and the rest of the day their pace went much faster as they strode towards the city practising his "new" title in small polite conversations.

It was late afternoon when they stood in front of the Guild's gates. The guards disregarded him taking him for a dweller. Akkarin stood for a long time gazing at the gates and the Guild behind them. He did not talk or move but sensed Takan standing right behind him. Takan was to remain in this position making it obvious for all that he was but a servant. A role he fit well.

Akkarin reached out and touched the gates. How many times had he passed in and out of these giant doors without really noticing them? The Guild guards glanced at each other but seemed to silently agree that it was not illegal for a dweller to touch the giant doors. Akkarin's eyes went from the top to the bottom – right now these gates were the most awesome sight he had ever seen.

Finally, he closed his eyes and sent out a mental call for Lorlen. Just his name. His breath became a bit strained from the excitement and anticipation suddenly roaring through his body and soul and he forced it back to its usual steady and even rhythm. No emotions were to be seen or shown. Not too many, anyway.

No reply was heard and he became a bit worried for a moment.

"_Lorlen – it is Akkarin" _he tried again.

"Akkarin_, why…is that you? I almost took you for dead! Where are you_?"

"_I am outside the Gates to the Guild. Will you come let me in_?"

"_You_ _are here? In Imardin? Outside the Gates? Of course I will! I am running as we speak. But why don't you just let the guards let you in? Oh, never mind – I'll be there in five minutes_"

Akkarin sensed excitement in Lorlen's eager response and heard a tapping sound. Looking down, he realised that his fingers were nervously drumming against the gates. He removed his hand and tried to once again calm down. He turned towards Takan who eyed him closely. Takan looked composed yet a bit pale. Akkarin tried to smile a little to the man in a way he hoped looked reassuring. Takan bowed to him respectfully and Akkarin turned towards the Gates again.

In only a few minutes he would be within the Guild compound again. He would see Lorlen again. His stomach felt as if it was filled with acid and he swallowed hard trying to bring some liquid into his dry mouth. He smoothed his hair back and straightened his back even further and rubbed his face. _"Why didn't I wash myself before coming here? What was I thinking about_?" he suddenly thought feeling panicky. He looked at his ragged sleeves and began folding them in order to hide the threads and make them look less shabby but then his scars appeared and he quickly unfolded them. Then he rolled his head from side to side and cleared his throat a couple of times. By now his heart was hammering in his chest.

"Don't worry, Master – everything will be fine"

Takan. He lowered his head and took a deep breath. "_He is right of course. Let this be the last time I lose my head, please_".

He turned back towards Takan again. "Thank you, Takan – I needed that. And it is Lord Akkarin, remember"

"Of course_, Lord Akkarin_, my mistake"

Akkarin smiled at him. A gush of the Imardin breeze moved through his clothes and hair and reminded him once again of his success. He was here. This was his goal. Now everything would be better.

"Akkarin!" By the sound of Lorlen's voice he spun about. Lorlen was standing behind the gates which were being opened by the guards.

"Akkarin?" now Lorlen's voice sounded incredulous.

Akkarin felt the corner of his mouth go up and replied "The one and only". Watching Lorlen's expression made his smile fade away again. Lorlen looked horrified. Then he watched as Lorlen clearly thought twice and found a look more suitable for welcoming back an old friend. "_Good, make this easy on me, Lorlen!"_

"Akkarin – it _is _you. Welcome". The Gates were fully open now and Lorlen walked over to Akkarin and slung his arms about him giving him a big tight hug.

Akkarin stood still for a moment before he too lifted his arms and hugged Lorlen back. For what seemed a long time, they stood there holding on to each other. Akkarin felt tears dangerously threatening to come into his eyes but he managed to fight them back. Then he pulled away.

"Lorlen, it is truly good to see you". Lorlen laughed a little. "And you" he said. "What has happened to you? You look terrible" he said and at the very moment looked as if he regretted every word.

"Robbed", Akkarin replied shortly. "But I am fine – all I want right now is a bath, a meal and a good night's rest".

"Robbed?" Lorlen sounded appalled and shook his head." What has this world come to?" he hissed and grabbed Akkarin by his arm. "Come – let's get you inside". Then he turned and regarded Takan who had stood motionless. "And who is this?" "My servant Takan" Akkarin replied smoothly and Takan immediately bowed to Lorlen saying "My Lord". Lorlen nodded politely and returned his attention to Akkarin.

As they walked, they passed several Guild magicians. Lorlen had undoubtedly been announcing Akkarin's return to every single one he had met on his hasty way towards the Gates. The magicians did not say anything. They ever so slightly bowed their heads to Akkarin who returned the gesture. None said anything and all looked silently shocked from witnessing the state he was in. He did his best not to pay any attention to their expressions. Once he was fully robed it would all be much easier. Everything would be fine. He would not have it any other way.


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter Twenty-four**

Upon entering the Magicians' Building he had to stop. The entire experience of being inside the Guild left him with a feeling of dizziness and he leaned himself shortly against a door frame leaving Lorlen to continue on ahead by himself.

Akkarin's mind was spinning. He realized that he probably had been hyperventilating ever since leaving the Gates.

They had not stopped to talk to any of the other magicians. Most of those he had passed while walking next to Lorlen had clearly not recognised him but had in stead eyed him up and down with slight apprehension or even disgust showing in their faces. He had kept his eyes low uncertain what they might read in his expression. Those who had recognised him, he feared to face even more.

"Akkarin – are you ill"? Lorlen's voice reached him. It sounded concerned and worried. He pushed himself away from the door frame and shook his head smiling at Lorlen. "Ah, I am aware that I have looked better but I feel quite the contrary". He broadened his smile. "Now, my rooms…"?

"…are exactly as you left them!" Lorlen answered sounding very pleased with him self.

"The Administrator wanted to give them away last year. He argued that since we had not heard a word from you, you obviously had no intentions of returning to the Guild but I argued strongly against it. I always knew you would come back one day simply due to your sense of duty, though I must admit that I have been worried about you ever so often. You have been gone for nearly six years and I never heard a word from you" Lorlen's tone of voice was slightly accusing now. But then he smiled and his eyes met Akkarin's who could not help but flinch slightly. How he had missed Lorlen! If he only knew!

"I can't explain it, but I always assumed you had your reasons and clearly I was right". Lorlen stopped to look speculatively at Akkarin. Then he smiled again. "But let us not talk about that now. Go down to your rooms now. I will escort your servant; Takan was it, to the Servants' area".

"No, Takan stays with me" Akkarin's reply came very sudden. Too sudden, he realized.

"But there is only one bedroom" Lorlen said puzzled.

"We have slept without one for quite some time. Takan will be fine on a mattress on the floor" Akkarin said in a tone that left no room for further debate on the matter.

But as he realised that Lorlen or rather other Magicians would wonder about such a decision he added in a more polite voice:

"Tomorrow I will see if I can find a more suitable place for Takan to live in but tonight I need his services. He and I have been through a lot lately, as you might imagine. I need to make sure that he is alright".

As Lorlen nodded and turned away. Akkarin frowned. Would having Takan spend a night in his rooms rise silly suspicions? He shrugged. _Lorlen knows me well enough to know where my preferences lie – as do most of the Guild and I don't care anyway._

He turned around to give Takan a reassuring look but the servant did not look at him but remained motionless with a neutral expression. At least Takan would not give away their true backgrounds. The man was perfect as a personal servant and ally.

"Good night, Lorlen", Akkarin said and smiled. "Tomorrow you and I must sit down and talk together. I too have been wondering what you have been up to all those years"

"Ha!" Lorlen laughed. "You know me – nothing much has been going on but researching and working hard. I was meant to be here – growing duller and duller as time goes by. And I like it that is the worst part! You go to bed now. I will send someone with a mattress and bed sheets for Takan".

Akkarin thanked Lorlen and smiled at the obvious truth in Lorlen's statement about his place within the Guild. Then he and Takan went for his old rooms.

Once inside he sat down in one of the comfy chairs. "Come, Takan, have a seat" he said and indicated with his hand towards the chair opposite the small table separating the two slightly shabby chairs. Takan did not move immediately.

Akkarin turned his head frowning radiating an aura of displeasure. Takan slowly went to sit down.

"Takan – I do appreciate that you act so well but when in private I value your company too much to keep up the façade. You and I are friends first and foremost" Akkarin said and Takan's shoulders slunk down.

"I know", he replied, "but let us not become too good friends and risk your people noticing and wondering about what the term of our relationship actually is".

So Takan had the same worries that he had had for a brief moment.

Akkarin had never wondered how Sachakans looked at people of the same gender having mutual feelings for one other. But seeing as he had never encountered such a relationship they probably shared the same negative thoughts as most Kyralians did. Suddenly Akkarin came to think of a first year novice by the name of Dannyll. There was something about that guy… Ah, but who cared truly? Should it matter? Not in Akkarin's mind though he could not quite understand how any man could feel attracted to another man. Anyway Takan need not worry about it.

"Takan, I assure you that there are plenty of stories about me and my, ahm, romantic escapades before I left the Guild and none of those involve men. Everybody knows that so don't worry. Besides it is only natural that a Magician's servants live in his or her home. Lorlen's reaction was merely due to the fact that my flat is not quite big enough for two people to live in but I will try to find a more appropriate home – with a room for you as well as soon as possible. Until then I trust you and I can share my bedroom without feeling ashamed or stupefied. Think of how we have been sleeping for the last couple of weeks" he pointed out thinking of the cold Kyralian nights where they simply had had to lie close together in order to keep warm. Sure, Magic had kept them warm but once asleep his Magic faded and thus nothing but the old fashioned way worked.

Takan nodded. "You are right, Master. As long as this will not bring you in any kind of jeopardy then I am fine with it".

"I don't think I will ever consider myself in jeopardy again after surviving Sachaka" Akkarin replied seriously.

Then a knock sounded on the door and Takan jumped out of his chair to answer it. A servant entered carrying Takan's bedding. Akkarin instructed the servant to place it just inside the room. After eyeing the two ragged clothed and dirty men up and down with open curiosity, the young man left again.

"Tomorrow I will get us some new clothes" Akkarin said and went over to his closet and opened it.

One warrior robe remained on a hanger as well as a couple of old trousers, an old shirt, a west and some undergarments, socks and even a pair of boots. He had left the clothes there, he remembered before setting out for his "adventure".

When packing back then he had looked at these clothes and found them too worn out and at the same time he had been too lazy to throw them out. Looking at them now and comparing them to what Takan and he had been wearing for the last five years, he felt his cheeks burn with shame. The clothes were made from an excellent quality of wool, and cotton and the robe had been produced using the softest richest silk, one could buy. They were all without holes or spots worth of mentioning. Far too luxurious to discard like this. What a spoiled brat he had been. He had taken so much for granted.

He closed the door firmly and turned around to look at Takan. "Let's wash ourselves and go get some proper sleep for once".


	25. Chapter 25

Washed, shaved, and robed, Akkarin strode towards Lorlen's rooms. He nodded politely at the Magicians he passed on his way but did not stop to talk to any of them.

He knocked at Lorlen's door and Lorlen answered with a broad smile on his face. "Morning, Akkarin. Good to see you fully robed again. And with boots on!

He had put on the spare pair from his closet, cursing shortly after from the stiff uncommon sensation of having his feet restrained within leather compartments. Boots were excellent when used to them but in truth his feet hurt. He immediately healed the discomfort away knowing that it would only be a problem for a couple of days and smiled at Lorlen.

"Good morning, Lorlen. Wearing proper clothes again does feel good. Did you know that fabric made of poor quality makes your skin itch terribly? Especially when dirty"

Lorlen made a grimace of sympathy. "Come, sit down. I have prepared two nice cups of sumi". He sat down. "So tell me, how did you get mugged in the first place?"

Akkarin pursed his lips and then smiled apologetically at Lorlen. "Mugged is hardly the right term" he said and sat down sipping of the steaming sumi.

"To be honest, I had decided to celebrate the fact that I was on my way home and had taken the liberty to open up a bottle of wine. Not the good kind, mind you, but the one that knocks you unconscious and gives you a giant headache in the morning, as it turned out. Anyway, Takan and I were enjoying our selves immensely and the wine seemed to taste better and better – you know how it is… Before any of us knew it, three bottles were emptied. So we fell asleep.

Next morning, the camp had been emptied of all of our belongings. The thieves had even removed the tent what with us still sound asleep in the open around the camp fire". Akkarin laughed a little making Lorlen chuckle as well. _I should be an actor_, he thought to himself.

"I expect the thieves must have had a good laugh as well at my expense. As a thank you for my generosity, they left their own clothes for us to wear. We were out in the middle of nowhere, so I suppose I should be grateful for the gesture, actually.

However, they had left us with nothing apart from those clothes. After the first shock had settled, I decided it was quite a challenge. It is not often, after all that one finds one self starting from scratch. Though I must admit in the end, I could have done without the last couple of days".

Lorlen laughed and shook his head. "It is so you to be all stubborn. I would have called out for help immediately".

"Hmmm, well, being away from the safety of the Guild all these years has perhaps made me a bit more strong willed, I'll admit as much".

He took another sip of the sumi and averted his gaze to Lorlen. "Being away has taught me to deal with things little by little. Perhaps I have simply matured. I find myself to be much more patient now. I have learned that things have an amazing way of turning out for the benefit if you do not rush into deciding what to do about them."

He placed his cup on the table and smiled at Lorlen and leaned back in his armchair. "Now, your turn; Tell me all about what has been going on with you and with the Guild while I have been away. I want to know it all, affairs, rivalry, brilliant research results, everything".

After hours of recapturing the most important events of the Guild and the most exciting gossip – mostly marital scandals and who had married whom from their times as novices and why some were now enemies etc., they split up.

It had been a pleasant morning so far.

Returning to his rooms, he was glad that he had not had to talk much about his journey. Lorlen had asked a couple of times about his studies and he had told him that he had isolated himself from civilisation apart from hiring Takan as his personal servant.

Further on, he had told Lorlen that the old scripts he had been studying in the different countries he had visited had spoken highly of meditation as a way of obtaining a higher understanding of the world as a whole and of one self. He had found this to be very true, he had lied to Lorlen.

"Did you keep a journal?" Lorlen asked and yes, he had in fact kept journals but the thieves had taken the liberty of removing them as well. As Lorlen could imagine, he could not possible retrieve all of the information without going back again and frankly, he did not want to leave the Guild any time soon. Being a Guild Magician actually living within the Guild seemed more appealing to him now, he had said.

Lorlen had bought his story without showing any disbelief however he did tell Akkarin more than once what a terrible shame it was that none of his research was left. Akkarin had shrugged and told him that he still did not consider the years a waste of time as it had matured him as a person in general. And that could not be put into a journal anyway as it was only of interest to himself.

"Perhaps one day I will continue my original research but right now I am just happy to be where I am. I look forward to engaging myself fully in Guild affairs. I am certain I will still find that there are things that could be changed for the better and go annoy some of the old rats with my progressive ideas, don't you agree?" He had asked Lorlen who had laughed and agreed with him. At least on the annoy matter.

He sighed. Next Freeday he would have to attend the night room. He had to go there as everybody wanted to see him and Lorlen was all excited about it.


	26. Chapter 26

The Night Room was completely crowded and buzzing with low kept conversations.

In the centre of the giant room, the old High Lord resided. Dressed in the formal attire of black robes his white sparse hair and pale wrinkled face held an almost ghostly shimmer.

The High Lord had been the Head of the Guild for nearly half a century and during his leadership nothing at all had changed from the former Head of the Guild's time. This left most of the Magicians with a comforting yet dull knowledge of rules and regulations and many believed that the conservative leadership preserved the Guild ensuring its reputation of strictness, continuance, and seriousness above all. The younger Magicians did not all agree with that of course, Akkarin included. Not that he did not approve of the rules – but changes for the better could be made.

Akkarin neared the High Lord and when the old man lifted his eyes to regard him, Akkarin bowed respectfully.

"High Lord" Akkarin said and looked solemnly at the Head of the Guild.

"Lord Akkarin, so very good to have you back with us again" the old man replied and indicated that Akkarin may sit down in the chair next to him.

The Administrator, nearly as old as the High Lord himself snapped his fingers and a servant held out a tray with glasses of wine. Akkarin took one and lifted his glass In order to salute to the High Lord and the Higher Magicians seated close by.

Then the interview began. He concentrated hard on maintaining his story. He replied shortly and precisely making sure not to add further lies to those he had already told Lorlen.

After about half an hour he was dismissed and rose and thanked the High Lord. He went over to a remote corner of the Night Room sure that less important magicians would now approach him and ask him the exact same questions.

As he was talking to a couple of young Alchymists and an older Warrior, a high female voice sounded behind him. "Akkariiin"

He excused himself and turned around. "Lady Cuiria" he said and forced a smile on his lips. The young Magician giggled hysterically at the fact that he obviously did remember her. How could he not?

Cuiria was a beauty. Blonde and flawless. So much so that Akkarin found her rather boring to look at. To most magicians his age, she was quite a marital catch. Being a distant relative of Lord Garrel's, she and most of her family was considered fairly important, mainly due to their astounding wealth.

Akkarin had never cared much for her but his own family had always hoped for a match between him and Cuiria. On the paper it looked perfect.

During their time as novices, he had in fact half heartedly been dating her a couple of times trying to live up to his family's expectations and the last one of those immensely boring dates had resulted in a one night stand, one he had deeply regretted the morning after while sneaking out of her bedroom.

When she had cornered him later that morning she had called him her shy little warrior completely oblivious to the question of why he had left her like that in the first place. Giggling insanely, she had told him how she apparently had been having the "time of her life".

After that there had been no more dates.

Of course she had not given up on him despite his more of less polite attempts to telling her that he was not interested in any further relationship - ever. It seemed to him right now that she and her insisting manner was one of the many reasons why he had left the Guild in the first place.

Looking at her standing here in front of him, he realised that she was as determined as ever. Remembering Yilana and her sweet way of being only made Cuiria's eagerness seem even more outrageous and a complete waste of time on her behalf.

"Akkariiin, do not Lady me" she said and giggled once again which nearly made him wince. She took his hand. "I want to throw a small party for you" she whispered and winked at him. "Just a few people – nothing fancy or too big to your liking".

He wanted to pull his hand away from her but instead he smiled politely.

"Aahm, well Cuiria, I am not really into partying anymore. So thank you but I have to decline". He smoothly pulled his hand free of her grip.

"Well I am not going to let you decline, Akkarin" she said in a tone of voice revealing that she came from Nobility and from a long tradition of bossing other people around.

He lifted his eyebrows. Surely she did not expect that she could tell him what to do or what not to do? He was about to tell her his honest opinion when Lorlen intervened.

"Cuiria", Lorlen said and smiled apologetically at Akkarin. "I gather you have informed Akkarin about our plans?"

"I have and that silly man told me he does not want to party" she said with her mouth slightly pouting.

"Yes, well you know him. Thing is, Akkarin" Lorlen said "Cuiria told me about her plans and it would be fun to meet with some of the old guys, don't you agree"? Lorlen's voice turned a little desperate in the end of his question and Akkarin didn't doubt that he had done what ever possible to change Cuiria's mind until finally giving in to her.

"Of course… alright. So when is this wonderful party going to be?" Akkarin asked staring flatly at Lorlen who flushed slightly.

"Next Freeday – ooooh, we are going to have so much fun!!!" Cuiria shrieked.

Oh, yes, we sure are, Akkarin thought dryly.


	27. Chapter 27

Akkarin strode towards Cuiria´s residence in Imardin carrying a small simply wrapped present. Of course, he was the reason for the party but it was customary to bring a small something to the hostess.

He had been strolling about the luxurious shops within the Inner Circle of Imardin this morning feeling apprehensive about giving her anything at all but then he had slowly begun to enjoy being there. It was a wonderful sunny day and the city looked beautiful and full to the rim of luxury and quality goods. He reached into his pocket and took out his purse. He had been given an extravagant advance by the Administrator and suddenly he felt like spending it. He went into his favourite tailor and ordered some new clothes; shirts, trousers, vests. He also ordered new clothes for Takan, hoping he had the man's measurements right. Finally he had bought two warm long coats for both of them and ordered them sent back to the Guild immediately.

A new book store had opened while he had been away and he had bought a couple of interesting looking books before entering the furniture shop where he had bought a huge chest for Takan's personal belongings. Takan did not have any such belongings yet but hopefully in time… and then Akkarin had remembered his actual reason for being in Imardin in the first place. Cuiria!

It was important that the gift did not in any way imply even the slightest hint of affection. So flowers were out of the question. Leaving the only other alternative; chocolate.

The small box of dark imported coco sweets were carefully wrapped by the enthusiastic shop keeper who had been hinting this and that, and Akkarin had had to literally stop the shop keeper from decorating the box further leaving the man with his hands still full of shiny gold strings of coherent hearts in a clearly disappointed state of mind, as Akkarin exited the store.

In the afternoon, Lorlen had lent him some of his clothes for the occasion. His own were too worn and out of fashion for attending an evening party.

So here he was at Cuiria Garrel's family residence in Imardin. He knocked on the huge door and was let in by a silent male servant. The servant took his new long coat and gestured towards the door to the Living Room. As he entered the huge room he silently swore as at least sixty pairs of eyes were directed towards him. So much for a small party!

"Akkariin" Cuiria wound her way through the crowd towards him and kiss-kissed him on his cheeks. "Ladies and Gentlemen, our guest of Honour has finally arrived!" she proclaimed and he politely smiled and nodded at the many just as politely smiling heads. She took his arm and pulled him towards a table where thankfully Lorlen was sitting enjoying a glass of red wine.

"Cuiria" Akkarin interrupted her realizing too late that she was telling him something "Thank you for throwing this party for me" He hesitated. "This is for you" he finally said and held out the gift. Giggling she took it and tore off the paper "Coco sweets from Lanani! And my favourites, too! Aw, how sweet of you!" she cooed. Damn, damn, and more damn.

Akkarin sighed, giving her a half hearted smile and sat down next to Lorlen who offered him a glass of red wine which he almost immediately drained. "There there" Lorlen said looking quite amused. "You will be fine. She has just missed you like we all have". Akkarin raised his eye brows intending to comment on that but decided against it. Lorlen was right. It just felt so superficial being here and looking around he realised that he did not really know any of the other guests that well. Not surprisingly. Cuiria had made sure not to invite any body who knew him too well apart of course from Lorlen. But then again, he did not feel like seeing any of his old girl friends. He felt quite certain that they would appear just as ridiculous and empty headed as Cuiria compared to Yilana.

Cuiria had left their table to talk to some of the other guests. It was a cocktail party and, thankfully, mingling was an important party task for a hostess.

"So, Lorlen, how about you and the ladies" Akkarin asked smiling at his old friend. "Met the right one yet?" Lorlen blushed a little making Akkarin feel even older than he already felt compared to this long time friend of his. "No, I am afraid not. I thought I would have an easier time after you left than I'd had when you were around, but it seems you were not the reason why none of the girls showed any interest in me. I was". The words were said in good humour but Akkarin sensed Lorlen's silent regret about the fact. "In time, my friend, in time even some one as you will find the right one" Akkarin replied in the same good humoured way all the while feeling a little uneasy. Of course Lorlen would feel alone at times. Well, at least, Akkarin had no intention of finding a new love. No body could compare to Yilana. So he and Lorlen would be able to spend a lot time together without womanish interruptions and he looked forward to once again feel completely at ease with Lorlen – which they still not quite did. It had been too many years and their lives had been lived so differently. But Akkarin would do his very best to slip into the familiar ways of the Guild.

"Akkarin, come say hello to my uncle, Lord Garrell" Cuiria said while once again pulling at Akkarin's sleeve. He rose and went after her. Lord Garrell was never one Akkarin had liked. He remembered the man as narrow sighted and suspicious not to mention overly ambitious. Every body at the Guild knew that Garrell wanted to become the next High Lord of the Guild. And as far as Akkarin knew none were too pleased about it. Strength was what determined who would eventually become High Lord and Garrell wasn't known to be that powerful. But he was immensely rich and had some quite influential friends close to the King. If no one else opted for the position when the time came, who knew what would happen?

"Lord Garrell", Akkarin said. "I am pleased to be honoured this way by your niece. It is a wonderful party".

"Yes, my niece seems to hold you in high esteem. See that you remember that" Garrell replied curtly. "But of course, though I fear I will soon loose her appraisal" "How so?" Garrell asked sharply and Cuiria turned her head to look at Akkarin wide eyed and a little upset.

"I fear my travels have tired me of social activity such as parties. I know how Lady Cuiria doesn't like to tire her mind with the boredom of books but I must admit that I have come to view myself as a constant student. What I truly want is to dedicate myself fully to the Guild".

He glanced at Cuiria, shrugging apologetically. "I am not like I used to be, Cuiria. I can assure you that you would be better off partying for some one else as I fear I have turned into just another boring Guild Magician. In fact I spend hours each day in absolute silence".

"Hours? What ever for?" Cuiria exclaimed. "Yes, hours" Akkarin replied calmly, "Five hours at least with out a word."

"But what do you do? Just sit there?" This was too much for Cuiria to comprehend.

"Yes" Akkarin replied nearly smiling but keeping it from showing. "I sit…. And I think".

"What ever of?" Cuiria said still incredulous.

"Oh, mostly I ponder on passages of Guild History or I try to think of a tree. It is an old meditation method, you know. To think of a tree… to become a tree… ah, yes, a tree…"

He blinked and looked at Lord Garrell and his confused niece. "My apologies, I got carried away. Once again Lord Garrell, Lady Cuiria, thank you" and with that he smoothly turned around and walked away.

"Why does Lord Garrell stand there frowning and why does Cuiria look as if something hard has hit her on her head"? asked Lorlen.

"My friend, something just did" Akkarin said and poured himself another pleasant glass of red wine.


	28. Chapter 28

The sun was shining and the air was cool and crisp. Winter was close but today would be yet another pleasant autumn day.

Akkarin sighed contentedly as he approached the Arena for an early practise bout with Lord Balkan.

Last week's party with Cuiria had turned out to be a rather fun experience and the fact that Cuiria had left him alone ever since did not make it any less pleasant. Clearly she had been quite disturbed by his little story about tree meditation. Ah, the look on her face had been priceless! He laughed quietly to himself.

Just outside the Arena he checked that his robes were in order so that they wouldn't hinder his movements and once satisfied he went inside.

Lord Balkan was already there and greeted him with a polite bow. Akkarin responded likewise.

Akkarin respected Lord Balkan. Much more a typical warrior than Akkarin, there was a raw honesty and directness about Balkan. And despite his broad body frame there was a clever mind behind the muscles and the tough face.

Like Akkarin, Balkan enjoyed the game of the bouts: the planning of the strikes, the strategy behind each move. Most of all, both of them took pleasure from the fact that an Arena fight could be won using your brain in stead of merely using your magical strength.

Akkarin thought back on his initial capture by Dakova 5 years ago. The main reason why Dakova had won so quickly was not solely because of his superior strength. In part it had also been due to the fact that Akkarin had been completely unprepared for attacks outside the formal fighting grounds of the Guild. Of course, he would have lost the fight no matter how prepared he had been Eventually, in a real fight, strength would determine the outcome.

Still he needed to keep his fighting skills honed and he intended to continue visiting the Arena for practise bouts on a regular basis. Preferably with the Head of Warriors as his adversary.

"Ready"? Lord Balkan asked.

"Ready".

They danced around the Arena for a long time striking and pausing – sometimes circling slowly around the centre facing each other, other times striking relentlessly at each other.

Akkarin noticed the sweat on Balkan's forehead as well as the man's strained expression and was pleased by the fact that he was not feeling the least bit tired. He tried to match the strength of Balkan in order not to give his own strength away but in the end he couldn't help himself and launched a huge ball of heat strikes towards Balkan. Alarmed, he noticed Balkan's shield waver and immediately stopped the strikes from the actual impact.

Lord Balkan wiped his sweaty forehead with the back of his hand.

"Congratulations" Balkan said. "For a while I thought I had you. Remember? When you stopped attacking and we were circling the Arena the last time? I felt certain that you had used up most of your strength. But I can see now how wrong I was. But, damn, it was a good fight!

"Lord Balkan, I assure you that I feel more exhausted than I look. However, I always try not to wag my tail too much. It is a very helpful skill once you master it."

"Ha!" Lord Balkan barked. "Yes, I am sure it is but no matter how schooled my expression had been during the bout it wouldn't have granted me the victory".

Akkarin smiled and bowed. "So, when do we meet again?"

"In two weeks – same time as today" Lord Balkan replied. "I wouldn't miss it for the world".

"Two weeks it is then" was Akkarin's amused answer.

Walking back towards his home at the Magicians' Building, a well-known voice reached his ears. He stopped and waited patiently for her to catch up with him.

"Good morning, Cuiria".

"Good morning, Akkarin" she panted. "I missed your practise bout with Lord Balkan, didn't I?" Her voice had a silly slightly offended girlish tone.

He glanced at her. Missed it? Who would have told her in the first place?

"You didn't miss much then. It was just a regular practice bout. Since when have you been interested in watching fights? I seem to recall that you disliked the Warrior discipline quite vehemently"

She smiled smugly. "Well, I always did enjoy watching _you_ in a fight, you know that. Besides you used to win and I wondered if you were still as good as then".

Not knowing what to say, he simply continued walking.

"So" she said. Did you enjoy the party last week?"

"Yes"

"Me too. And you know what? I have been trying to do what you suggested.

"You…. What did I suggest?"

"To become a tree, of course! And I think I have it by now. I am a magnolia tree…. with beautiful pinkish white tulip flowers. And perfect branches"

_Of course, what else?_

"It is really wonderful, Akkarin. At first I thought this tree thing was a bit weird but now I understand you completely. It is a magnificent thing"

Akkarin could feel his eyebrows practically wanting to touch his hair line but he kept his usual neutral expression. Well, perhaps his brows were slightly rised but she shouldn't be able to notice.

"Well, I am glad that you appreciate it. Meditation clears the mind and helps you relax and be at ease with your self. Did you also stay silent for several hours?"

"Goodness, no! " Cuiria giggled. "No, _that_ I just couldn't do. But I do admire you for being able to stand it. Must be so hard"

In her own silly way, Cuiria was quite sweet. She was so naïve it was hard not to smile at her. Trouble was he wouldn't want to be with anybody at all and definitely not someone like Cuiria who made him smile at her instead of laugh _with_ her.

"Thank you but to me it isn't that difficult. I simply need my quiet moments."

They walked in silence for nearly one full minute before she started chattering away again.

_Sweet? Sweet as in tooth achingly sweet then. _


	29. Chapter 29

The old High Lord had died.

The Guild had been buzzing with rumours and speculations ever since.

Akkarin had not partaken in the discussions. He had, however, begun to wonder at a comment Balkan had made the other evening in the Night Room. Lord Garrel had opted for the position as High Lord which was to be expected. And Akkarin had noted that, as expected, only a few members of the Guild were openly thrilled about the idea. Lord Garrel was overambitious and most Guild members felt that he was a little too eager. But so far no other Magicians had openly volunteered for the position.

One of the rare supporters for Garrel, Lord Fergun, had mentioned Lord Garrel's age as an asset and the other Magicians had reluctantly nodded in agreement. But Lord Balkan had cleared his throat and said "Age does not matter when the required strength, wisdom, and manners are present in abundance" and had looked pointedly at Akkarin. Akkarin had met his gaze levelly, and in doing so had felt the other Magicians' stares as well, although the remark had caught him off guard.

Later on, back in his rooms, the remark and the respectful way the other Magicians has looked at him, had sparked a fire. As High Lord, he would be able to gain access to people and information concerning the safety of not only the Guild but of Kyralia and the Allied Lands as well. He would be able to study what ever was of interest to him and there was a great many subjects that interested him. Subjects that he did not want anybody to know about let alone question. The High Lord lived in the High Lord's Residence and he would not mind the reclusive lifestyle and neither would Takan. A High Lord would also be allowed, perhaps expected even to act a little eccentric. That would give him more time alone which was appealing. He found the social life in the Guild shallow and tiresome but he attended it because it was expected of him. As High Lord he could make his own social choices and create his own preferred life style.

The prospect of being elected High Lord certainly opened up for a whole new life. His manners as Balkan had referred to were shaped from a privileged childhood and youth in wealth and of five years in slavery. He had always been headstrong and full of ideas. He still was but now he was also quiet and attentive. And he knew there was something about him that made people listen to him and some to feel slightly uneasy around him as well. This solemn presence of his was not caused by slavery but naturally, the years in Sachaka made him appear harsher than before. The years had sharpened his mind as well his looks. It was a part of his personality which in fact could be an asset if he were to become leader of the Guild.

Then there was the strength. Of course his phenomenal strength originated from black magic. He had not used it since those five months ago but still he was far stronger than anybody in the Guild.

He _could_ have spent the power. He could have strengthened the Arena and the thought had occurred to him. Several times. But he hadn't. He knew he should not fear the Ichanis anymore but still the danger of _what if_ lurked in the back of his mind.

Balkan had sensed his strength during the numerous practise bouts between the two of them. But before he had left the Guild, Akkarin had been one of the strongest Magicians, if not _the_ strongest. In other words, even without black magic he would be eligible if he chose to run for the position. Furthermore he would never abuse his knowledge of black magic. And there was _sense_ in the idea of the High Lord actually knowing what was required should black magic ever become an actual threat to the Guild.

Sighing he fumbled with the black arm band. The ceremony for remembrance in honour of the belated High Lord was to take place in an hour and every Magician was to wear the traditional black band. He called out for Takan for assistance.

"Yes, Master?"

Akkarin sighed. He had accepted Takan's stubborn way of continuing to call him by that name whenever they were alone.

"Would you help me, please?" Akkarin said and turned towards Takan handing out the band. Quickly Takan tied the tiny black sash around Akkarin's left arm.

Most of the time, Takan stayed inside and Akkarin didn't mind Takan being a recluse. He was teaching Takan to read and Takan was beginning to be able to read books by himself now. Naturally, he preferred to read about the Kyralian cuisine. Living here in the Magicians Building did not give him an opportunity to cook the food himself, though.

Akkarin felt certain that Takan would enjoy living at the High Lord's Residence being in charge of a kitchen of his own. Akkarin would make sure that Takan would be able to cook every possible dish he could ever think of.

He noted Takan watching him and smiled at him. Takan frowned but nodded slightly.

_Well, well, well, seems I have made my choice._


End file.
